A Squib's Proper Place
by Ozma
Summary: COMPLETE. Sirius plays a prank on Severus, with unpleasant results for both. Callandra is Sorted. Mrs. Norris's kittens find homes and companions. Filch realizes something new about his own place in the Castle. Sequel to To Save a Squib.
1. Two Squibs at Hogwarts

A Squib's Proper Place  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma  
a sequel to "To Save A Squib"  
Chapter One: Two Squibs at Hogwarts  
  
  
  
"Are you really going to let him just hobble out of here?" Sirius   
Black asked, incredulously.  
  
Severus Snape answered the Animagus before Madam Pomfrey had a   
chance to speak.  
  
"Yes, Black, she is," the Potions Master said, smugly. "Do you   
know why? Because, unlike you, I *can* walk."   
  
Two days earlier the Potions Master had been trapped in a   
collapsing tower, then buried for hours under the rubble. He was covered   
with bruises from head to foot.   
  
Severus had tried to hide his injuries with a glamour but his   
wounds had been discovered by Fawkes, the Headmaster's Phoenix. Both the   
Headmaster and Madam Pomfrey had insisted that Professor Snape rest for   
a while in the hospital wing.  
  
But Poppy was sending him down to his own room now. Snape's   
glamour was once more in place. The glamour couldn't hide the fact that   
Severus was very sore. Poppy could heal broken bones quickly but bruises   
and aching muscles took longer to mend.  
  
"I didn't say that you were `walking,' Snape. I said `hobbling.'"   
The Animagus told him, sourly.   
  
"If you prefer," Snape replied, still smug. "I'm still ambulatory.   
Which is more than can be said for you!"  
  
Black's wounds were worse than Snape's. Death Eaters had tortured   
him. And then he'd had a very painful encounter with the Dark Lord   
himself. Poppy had been able to mend Black's many broken bones easily,   
but the Animagus would need more time to heal from his internal   
injuries.   
  
The Dark Lord had wounded me too, shattering my right hand and   
right arm with the force of a curse that hadn't even touched me. Thanks   
to a vile concoction called Skele-Gro, my bones had been mended. But my   
arm and hand remained so painful that they were useless.  
  
I could still hear Professor Trelawney's frightening prediction.   
"The thing that you fear will happen before the start of summer," she'd   
told me.   
  
For nearly two months I'd been worried that she'd foreseen   
something dreadful happening to Mrs. Norris's unborn kittens. Had   
Professor Trelawney really foreseen my broken arm and hand? Was she   
telling me that I would never heal properly?  
  
What use would a one-armed, one-handed caretaker be to this   
Castle?  
  
Aware of my concern, Poppy had assured me that I would eventually   
regain the full use of my hand and arm. Rationally, I knew that I could   
trust her. Poppy always tells her patients the truth, even when the   
truth is unpleasant. But, in my heart, I was terribly afraid.  
  
At the moment poor Poppy looked like she needed a strong headache-  
soothing potion.  
  
"That's quite enough out of both of you!" The nurse snapped at   
Severus and Sirius.  
  
*******  
  
The Animagus, the Potions Master and I had been wounded rescuing a   
fifteen year old girl named Callandra Moffitt from Death Eaters.   
  
Callandra is a Squib, like me. The Dark wizards had wanted to   
mutilate the poor child; using her flesh and bone to demonstrate an   
ancient evil spell for their Dark Lord. Thanks to the three of us the   
girl had been returned to her family, frightened but unhurt. My   
satisfaction with this outcome was even stronger than my fear for   
myself.   
  
Callandra and her parents, Reuben and Hyacinth Moffitt were still   
visiting the Castle. Callandra's younger brother, Daniel, a Ravenclaw in   
his second year, was now with them too. I'd heard that all the Moffitts   
were currently in a meeting with the Headmaster.  
  
Not many people knew the real story behind Callandra's rescue. For   
the safety of everyone involved, not many people *could* know the whole   
story. The "official" version, released into the Castle's grapevine, was   
that Callandra had been saved from her kidnappers by the big, black dog.   
  
Sirius was supposedly a stray that had been hanging about   
Hogsmeade. He'd been adopted by Hagrid, though he was obviously very   
fond of Harry Potter as well.  
  
According to other stories making their way through the Hogwarts   
grapevine, Severus and I had both been injured in separate mishaps that   
had nothing to do with Callandra's kidnapping and rescue. Snape had   
"hurt his back a bit" while moving supplies in his office. And I'd   
broken my arm and hand falling off a ladder.  
  
Only a handful of people knew differently.  
  
*******  
  
Severus was on "light duties" today, only permitted to teach one   
of his Potions classes. Professor Grubbly-Plank had flatly refused to   
take the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins.  
  
"You'll have time for a nice, warm bath before teaching that   
class!" Poppy told the Potions Master, sternly. "Make it a good, long   
soak, mind you!"   
  
Then Poppy sighed. "I really hope that you won't overdo things,   
Professor. You need your rest."  
  
Severus looked insulted by the very idea that teaching one class   
would be "overdoing" things. Even if that class did include Neville   
Longbottom among its members.  
  
Fond of Neville as I am, I know that teaching him the subtle   
science and exact art of potion-making is not a task for the faint-  
hearted.  
  
*******  
  
Sirius Black clearly envied Snape, bruises and all. If the   
Animagus were free to walk around the Castle in his human form, he would   
have volunteered to teach the Potions class, just to have something to   
do.  
  
He'd always been a restless boy, unable to handle any sort of   
confinement very well. It amazed me that he'd been able to last twelve   
years in Azkaban, Animagus or not.  
  
When Sirius heard Poppy say that I would also be allowed to leave   
the hospital wing he gave me a mournfully jealous look.  
  
"Argus, you're not allowed to do even very light cleaning!" Poppy   
told me, firmly. "Read a book. Go for a walk outside. Or just spend time   
sitting quietly with Mrs. Norris. Anything, as long as it's relaxing!"  
  
I was frankly horrified at the notion of relaxing. I'm not very   
good at it. Keeping busy is what I prefer to do; it's in my nature.   
  
"As for you," Poppy told Black, "Transfigure yourself into   
"Snuffles." It's not safe to be seen any other way."  
  
With a sigh, the bedridden Animagus obeyed.  
  
*******  
  
As it turned out, poor Severus did not have an easy lesson with   
his fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Severus had limped into the   
classroom to find the children doing one of the things they did best;   
fighting.  
  
"I know that Poppy told you to relax, but you're going to have the   
fifth year Gryffindors for a detention this evening!" Severus had told   
me angrily, via my office fireplace.  
  
"All of them? What did they do?" I asked.  
  
"Longbottom and Weasley made a vicious and unprovoked attack   
against Vincent and Gregory!" Professor Snape had snarled. "And the   
others were stubborn about defending them! I took fifty points from   
Gryffindor. And I trust you to make their detention as unpleasant as   
possible!"  
  
*******  
  
Dusting is quite unpleasant, I thought. No child really enjoys   
doing anything so tedious. Not even Potter, who is quite good at it.  
  
Obeying Poppy's orders, I did not help the Gryffindors. My useless   
right arm in a sling, I restricted myself to supervising their work on   
the fifth floor corridor.   
  
Poor Mrs. Norris was curled up on the floor, safely out of range   
of all the flying dust. She was due to have her kittens any day now.   
  
My cat was beginning to look like a small, grey stuffed pillow.   
She was clearly very anxious for the whole pregnancy business to be   
over.  
  
While they worked, the children explained the reason for their   
fight with the Slytherins.  
  
"Pansy Parkinson started it, the stupid little cow!" Ron Weasley   
said, angrily.  
  
The gangly red head was making me regret my decision to allow the   
children to use magic to help them clean. The boy was so furious that   
his floating dust-cloths were creating a dust storm.  
  
"Pansy is awful!" Lavender Brown agreed indignantly. "Saying such   
rude things about poor Callandra!"  
  
Neville Longbottom's round, usually gentle face was full of anger   
and pain.   
  
"Callandra is not `unsuitable,' or 'useless,' or any of the other   
things that Pansy said she was!" the boy growled. It was a tone of voice   
I'd never heard from Neville before.  
  
"Of course she's not," Parvati Patil told Neville, also indignant.   
She gave Hermione a proud look.  
  
"Callandra is worth ten of Pansy, just as Hermione said!"  
  
Hermione sighed and looked over at Ron, who was now sneezing and   
covered with dust.  
  
"It might have ended there, if you'd just ignored Pansy, Ron."  
  
"How could I ignore her when she'd just called you a Mudblood?"   
Ron demanded, between sneezes.  
  
"You should have ignored Crabbe and Goyle then. I think they might   
have been coming over to restrain Pansy. You and Neville didn't have to   
tackle them..." Hermione said.  
  
"It was great though," Dean Thomas said, grinning. "You were both   
brilliant!"  
  
"Neville..." I said, worried, "you and Ron really did attack   
Crabbe and Goyle?"  
  
"Knocked them right down," Dean's grin widened.  
  
I studied Neville and Ron, anxiously, but neither boy had a mark   
on him.   
  
It was surprising. Ron had always been tall and wiry and Neville   
had grown a great deal over the course of the year, but neither   
Gryffindor was a match yet for Crabbe and Goyle in either size or brute   
strength.  
  
The young Gryffindor knights must have made up for the size   
difference with sheer ferocity. They'd been defending their ladies'   
honor, after all. Both of them were too gentlemanly to strike Pansy. But   
her hulking protectors would have been considered fair game.  
  
"The only thing better would have been if Malfoy had been knocked   
down too," Dean went on. "What was wrong with Draco, anyhow? Off by   
himself, like that... not even noticing that his girlfriend had just   
landed herself in the middle of a fight? Much as I can't stand Malfoy,   
that's not like him."  
  
"Draco's just had bad news from home," Harry Potter explained,   
quietly. "His father's ill."   
  
Unlike all the others, Potter was actually doing a good job with   
his dusting. At the moment he was using a cleaning spell to remove the   
dust from Ron's hair, face and clothes rather than the suits of armor   
and the paintings, but it was a start.  
  
"His father must be terribly ill if Draco's too distracted to pay   
any attention to Pansy..." Parvati said.   
  
"Maybe that's why she was in such a snit," the girl continued.   
"Neville, surely you don't you believe a word she told you! Ron's right.   
Pansy is just a vindictive little cow. You're certainly not a disgrace   
to your family, and you know that your Gran would never really disown   
you!"  
  
"Disown you...?" I asked, looking at Neville wide eyed.  
  
"B-because of Callandra..." Neville said, furiously.   
  
"My Mum married a Muggle, and her family didn't disown her!"   
Seamus Finnegan pointed out.  
  
"But, Seamus, your Mum never told your Dad she was a witch..."   
Dean pointed out.  
  
"I'm not talking about my Dad's side, just my Mum's," Seamus said.   
"Anyway, both sides of the family get along all right now."  
  
"Neville, your Gran didn't disown you when she thought you were a   
Squib, did she?" Hermione's voice was gentle and reasonable. "Why would   
she object to Callandra?"  
  
I was relieved to see that Hermione's words were able to penetrate   
Neville's worry and anger.  
  
"Just don't let your great uncle Algie dangle Callandra out of any   
attic windows..." Ron Weasley said.  
  
Neville looked ferocious again. "He'd better not try it."  
  
If Neville's great uncle had any sense, he would not tangle with a   
fifteen year old in love.   
  
I was wondering more about the eventual meeting between Neville's   
formidable grandmother and Callandra's fierce mother, Hyacinth. I almost   
missed what Neville said next.  
  
"I hope that the Headmaster really is going to let Callandra stay   
at the Castle," the boy murmured wistfully. "Everyone says that   
Professor Dumbledore's been talking to her parents about it all day and   
trying to make arrangements."  
  
"Callandra is being invited to stay?" I asked, softly. I was   
surprised and pleased. "For how long?"  
  
"Well, for years of course..." Seamus told me. "You can use the   
help, surely. Especially now. With your arm, and all."  
  
"The h-help?" my words came out in a whisper.   
  
"You haven't heard anything about this, Mr. Filch?" Lavender said,   
in surprise. "Everyone's been saying that Callandra is going to be your   
apprentice!"  
  
END OF CHAPTER ONE  
  
*******  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
ThePet: Thank you!!  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! I really like Dumbledore too. My favorite   
thing about him is his sense of fun. He and Uric would have gotten along   
well...  
  
Melodie: Thank you!! Yes, eventual mutual respect between Severus and   
Sirius is something that I can see. Not that either of them would admit   
it out loud, of course. They enjoy sniping and snarling at each other   
too much. You're right, they do have a lot more in common than either   
one realizes.  
  
Demeter: Thank you!! Yes, Draco is in an awful position, with very   
difficult choices to make. For the time being he still thinks that his   
father and Snape are on the same side. The way I see it, Snape can't let   
Draco know his true loyalties until he's more certain that the boy is   
going to choose Dumbledore. Snape will guide Draco subtly towards the   
light, but the real choice must be in Draco's hands.   
  
And yes, no matter which side Draco chooses, the poor boy is going to   
have to betray either his father or his mentor. Either way, he's headed   
for heartbreak.  
  
(I'm hoping to keep my stories as close to canon as possible, but I'm   
really, really hoping that Draco will eventually end up on Dumbledore's   
side in the actual books.)  
  
Saint Fool: Thank you!! (Mrs. Norris is taking kitten-applications.)  
  
Jelsemium: Thank you!! I've never tried writing Peter/Wormtail. I'm not   
sure if I could do him justice. He's despicable, but so heartbreaking. I   
see him as someone who made one bad decison and then another and another   
until his whole life went out of control.   
  
Yes, poor Snape was terribly embarrassed. Harry is just about the very   
last person he would have wanted to overhear his argument with Poppy.  
  
Ezra: Thank you!! I went back and reread Elspeth's "Not All Scars Are   
Visible" to find the part with Snape's boggart. That's a wonderful   
story!!!   
  
Yes, Lucius is in an excellent position to figure out Snape's true   
loyalties. (He's already wondering how Filch was able to "borrow"   
Sirius's wand.)  
  
Quoth the Raven: Thank you!! I especially liked what you said about the   
way Sirius talked about Voldemort.  
  
RowanRhys: Thank you!! I probably won't get this story's chapters   
uploaded as fast as the previous ones. My need for sleep seems to have   
reasserted itself.  
  
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!!  
  
Rabbit: Thank you!!  
  
UnrepententReader: Thank you!!  
  
Faith Accompli: Thank you!! 


	2. Hope and Fear

A Squib's Proper Place  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma  
a sequel to "To Save A Squib"  
Chapter 2: Hope and Fear  
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling  
  
  
  
"What??" I gasped. "Callandra, my apprentice? No!"  
  
I knew that Callandra's mother, Hyacinth, would never allow such a   
thing. No wonder the Moffitt family had been with the Headmaster all   
day. Hyacinth Moffitt, former Ravenclaw Seeker, was probably fighting   
the idea tooth and nail! Or, more appropriately, beak and talon.  
  
The fifth year Gryffindors all looked at me, surprised by my   
reaction. Even Neville looked upset with me.  
  
"But you seemed to be rather fond of Callandra, Mr. Filch..."   
Lavender said, softly, after a few moments.  
  
"I am. She's a good child," I said, struggling for the right   
words. Most of the Gryffindors were looking at me indignantly. I felt   
surrounded and besieged.  
  
I gave Mrs. Norris a desperate look, but she just glared. The   
expression in her golden eyes said plainly, "Don't bother me, I'm   
pregnant. You're on your own!"  
  
"A young girl scrubbing floors and toilets? Cleaning old gum off   
the stair railings? Enduring Peeves' endless taunts...?" I said,   
miserably, shaking my head in dismay.   
  
Worse than anything else was the thought of shy, pretty Callandra   
shut away from the sun in a gloomy dungeon office.   
  
"But, Mr. Filch," Dean Thomas pointed out, "you do those things."  
  
"It's all right for me. I'm an old man. She's just a child!"  
  
"What about detentions then," Ron Weasley wanted to know. "The   
bedpans? The trophy polishing? The floor-scrubbing? Watching us clean   
doesn't seem to upset you!"  
  
"Do you have to clean like a Muggle every single day, boy?" I   
asked, getting angry now. "A little hard work never hurt anyone, and the   
prospect of doing a bit of menial labor for punishment should be enough   
to deter you witch and wizard brats from doing things you know you   
shouldn't be doing anyhow!"  
  
My voice was shaking. "It would be different for Callandra. It   
wouldn't be a punishment for just a few hours, but her job! Back-  
breaking chores, morning, noon and night."   
  
I looked over at Neville. My young friend's face was both angry   
and troubled.  
  
"That can't be what you want for her!" I said.  
  
"What if she won't be allowed to stay in the Castle any other   
way?" Parvati asked me before Neville had a chance to answer.  
  
"It's not as if she could be admitted here as a student," Seamus   
said. "Her name was never on the List. No letter. No wand. No magic."  
  
"But Squibs do have magic," Hermione Granger said.  
  
"It's true," she went on, as everyone turned to look at her.   
  
"They're not the same as Muggles." Hermione said. "I've been doing   
some reading..." she added, unnecessarily.  
  
"They're not proper wizards either..." Ron said, looking at me   
apologetically. "Sorry, Mr. Filch," the boy muttered.  
  
I shrugged. He wasn't saying anything I hadn't been hearing all my   
life. And, at least he did have the courage to say it to my face.  
  
"Squibs are very sensitive to magic," Hermione said. "More so than   
regular witches and wizards. And they're immune or invisible to certain   
spells. Quite a number of spells, really."  
  
"The spell that creates the List for Hogwarts is one of that   
type," she explained. "That's why Squibs' names don't appear."  
  
Her voice got softer. "Squibs are safest when they're hidden. Dark   
Wizards have always wanted to cut them to bits and make use of their   
magical immunity. Why do you think the Death Eaters took Callandra?"  
  
I shuddered. I wasn't the only one, either.  
  
"You've been doing research in the Restricted Section..." I said,   
glaring at her.  
  
"Professor McGonagall gave me permission," Hermione replied. "As   
it happens, there's more information on Squibs there than there is in   
any other section."  
  
"That must be why you were kidnapped too, Mr. Filch. Back in   
December!" Parvati said. Her voice was full of pity for me.  
  
Naturally these children would make the obvious connections.   
Minerva's young lions were too clever to do otherwise. My kidnappers   
were supposed to have used a memory-charm on me, and the details of my   
own attack were presumed to be a mystery. But the whole school knew that   
Professor Snape had brought me back to Hogwarts, a half-dead bloody   
mess. I'd spent nearly a month in the hospital wing, recovering.  
  
I realized that I was still trembling. Angry with myself for not   
having gotten past this yet, I knelt to stroke Mrs. Norris who had   
finally waddled over to rub against my ankles. Lowering myself to the   
floor, I cradled her in my lap. She purred like a round, furry   
thunderstorm.  
  
Neville's voice was gentle. At least my young friend didn't sound   
angry with me any more. "If a Squib's best protection is to remain   
hidden, then neither you or Callandra have that protection any longer,"   
he said. "Callandra needs to be here, surrounded by witches and wizards.   
She'd be safer here than anywhere. I'm sure you can see that."  
  
"I do want Callandra to stay," I muttered. "I just don't want to   
see her breaking her back, blistering her hands and rubbing her knees   
raw! It's not fair!"  
  
The young lions were all looking at each other, grinning now.  
  
"This, from the man who'd like nothing better than to see us all   
hung up by our ankles in the dungeons?" Ron Weasley said, dryly.  
  
"That's different! Callandra is a good child!" I retorted. Then I   
sighed. I had a sinking feeling that my cover was blown as far as these   
particular Gryffindors were concerned.  
  
Potter had been very quiet, till now. "Everyone's been saying that   
Callandra's going to be your Apprentice, but it's really just a rumor,"   
the boy pointed out. "And rumors can lie. What if Professor Dumbledore   
really has other plans for her? What if she's going to be invited to   
stay here as a student?"  
  
Everyone was looking at him now. Including me.   
  
"Maybe the story about Callandra being your Apprentice started   
because no one could imagine any other place for a Squib at Hogwarts."   
Harry went on. "But the Headmaster likes to give everyone a chance,   
doesn't he? Dumbledore was talking to her family all day! It wouldn't   
take that long just to make arrangements to take her on as your   
assistant."  
  
"You don't know her mother!" I thought. But I felt hopeful. Could   
the boy be right?   
  
"The caretaker before you, Pringle. Was he a Squib too?" Harry   
asked me.  
  
I shook my head. "Hardly. Old Pringle was a proper wizard, who'd   
failed at his studies. He wasn't too pleased by the idea of training a   
Squib to do his job, either. Thought it was an insult."  
  
"You may have been the first Squib here, then," Harry said. "Just   
like Professor Lupin was the first werewolf allowed to come as a   
student. If a werewolf can come to school, why not a Squib?"  
  
"B-but Professor Lupin had a wand, and could do proper magic! What   
will Callandra do about Transfiguration? And Charms?" Parvati asked.   
  
"If Squibs are very sensitive, magically, then Callandra might be   
able to manage Divination," Lavender murmured, naming her favorite   
subject.  
  
"Or Arithmancy." Hermione said.  
  
"Or Care of Magical Creatures. Or Study of Ancient Runes..." Dean   
said, thoughtfully.  
  
"Or Potions." Neville shuddered. "Or Herbology," he added,   
brightening a bit. "I could always help her with any spells that she   
needs to do, if her magic isn't strong enough."   
  
"Or Defense Against Dark Arts." I thought. She could not protect   
herself the way the rest of the children could, but there were other   
ways.   
  
What would Mad Eye Moody make of Callandra? Or vice versa?  
  
How would another Squib react to a journey through a Door, I   
wondered, curiously. Not that I'd want to take such a risk with   
Callandra, unless it was to save her from Death Eaters.  
  
"She can certainly fall asleep in History of Magic as easily as   
the rest of us do..." Seamus said, grinning.  
  
Deeply moved by the young Gryffindors' willingness to accept   
Callandra as one of them, I fought to control my emotions. Tears were   
threatening. I blinked them away and stroked Mrs. Norris who responded   
with another contented purr.  
  
Thinking about my own early days in the Castle was something that   
I very seldom did. I'd had to work hard to show that fierce-tempered old   
man that I could do whatever he asked of me, even if I was "nothing but   
a Squib."  
  
With all my heart, I wanted Callandra's life to be easier than   
mine had been. I'd had to prove myself just to be allowed to mop the   
Castle floors. If Potter was correct, then Callandra would be an   
experiment; the first Squib witch that Hogwarts had ever really trained.   
Callandra was fortunate that she had friends willing to accept her. She   
would need them. And every shred of courage and strength she possessed.  
  
*******  
  
The Gryffindors finished cleaning the corridor, eventually. After   
I dismissed them, I summoned red-and-gold. With Mrs. Norris cradled in   
my left arm, I stepped through the tapestry into the hospital wing. My   
right arm and hand were aching, despite the fact that I hadn't been   
using them for anything.  
  
Poppy gave me a pain-killing potion, and then she gently palpated   
Mrs. Norris.   
  
"Six kittens at least..." Poppy told me. "Quite a litter! And they   
should arrive very soon now. Keep a close watch on her, Argus." She   
stroked my cat who had permitted the examination with dignity.   
  
Mrs. Norris's resigned manner was much the same as "Snuffles." The   
injured Animagus was permitting himself to be petted and crooned over by   
a group of Hufflepuff first-year girls who had come for some Pepperup   
potion and remained to fuss over the "poor sweet doggy."  
  
Black looked like he missed Harry, who came to visit with his   
godfather in the evenings. Detention had made the boy late.  
  
I knew that Potter would be down from Gryffindor tower as soon as   
he cleaned himself up a bit. But I couldn't say so in front of the other   
children. I hoped that Harry would not mention the fact that Severus had   
given him detention. The Animagus might bite the Potions Master the next   
time they met.  
  
Poppy gave me a small vial of pain-killing potion and a jar of   
liniment for Severus.   
  
"I know he has plenty of his own. But I'd wager a stack of   
galleons that he's not looking after himself properly," she said. "I   
want you to go and check on him for me," she added softly.  
  
Stepping into the corridor again, I used my Doors in a way that I   
rarely do. "Take me to Professor Snape," I told green-and-silver.  
  
I found myself in the dungeon corridor outside Severus's   
classroom.   
  
Professor Flitwick had placed his Unreachable Charms around   
Severus's office and classroom. Severus and I were both grateful for   
that. The Unreachable Charm was a lot less painful than the sort of   
violent curses that the Potions Master preferred to protect himself   
with. I was sure that I still had some scars left from the porcupine   
quills.  
  
The classroom door was slightly open. I could hear voices within.   
The one speaking sounded very young and uncertain. So unlike the usual   
superior drawl that I didn't recognize Draco Malfoy's voice at first.  
  
"He didn't want me to know that he was ill. But Mother wrote me   
anyhow. She knew I'd miss his letters, and that I'd worry. Mother won't   
say what's wrong with him. I've been owling her all day, and she won't   
tell me what happened! Don't I have a right to know? He's my father."  
  
"Your mother is wise, Draco," Severus said wearily. "Let her be."  
  
"You *do* know what happened to Father!" Draco said, triumphantly.   
I saw him lean forward to clutch at Snape's arm.  
  
"Professor, please. You can tell me. I won't tell Mother that I   
know!"  
  
The worried boy's grip must have been painful. Either that, or   
Snape deliberately allowed the glamour that hid his terrible bruises to   
falter for a moment.  
  
Draco's gasp of mingled shock and pity was audible from where I   
stood.  
  
"Your father is very strong, Draco. Nothing was done to him that   
he could not endure and survive." The Potions Master said. He allowed   
the pain to show clearly in his voice, though his wounds were concealed   
once again.  
  
Afraid for Lucius, Draco had come to Severus for reassurance. He   
hadn't found it. But perhaps he'd gotten the information he was seeking   
after all.  
  
The boy's back was to me, so I could not see his face. But he was   
trembling. Badly shaken, Draco's first response was still to reach out   
to his mentor. Offering the support he hadn't been given.  
  
Severus retreated, withdrawing into himself. "You have studying to   
do, Mr. Malfoy." He said, harshly.  
  
Draco's hand fell back to his side. Even before the boy stepped   
back from his Professor, I was retreating into green-and-silver again,   
so I would not be seen.  
  
The Door took me to my own room. I lingered long enough to put   
Mrs. Norris down gently on the bed. Then, still holding the potion and   
the liniment that Poppy had sent for Severus, I went back through the   
tapestry.  
  
The classroom door was still open. But Severus was alone now.  
  
He was sitting at his desk, his face buried in his hands.  
  
"Professor...?" I said, softly. "May I come in?"  
  
He looked up, dark eyes raking over me. The glamour was down, and   
the sight of his battered face made me wince.   
  
"I thought I saw your shadow in the corridor a few moments ago.   
Don't deny it!" He snarled.  
  
"I'm not denying it," I said. "I didn't mind if you saw me, as   
long as the boy didn't."  
  
His real anger wasn't aimed at me, I knew.  
  
"Poppy sent you some things..." I continued.  
  
He waved impatiently at a corner of his desk. Then he buried his   
face in his hands again.  
  
"Draco," he said, harshly, "won't be a boy for much longer. He's   
going to have to choose his path."  
  
Anguish and shame mingled in his voice. "I meant to frighten him,   
Filch. I wanted him to see the handiwork of the Dark Master that he's   
being groomed to serve. No one else can make the decision for him. Not   
Lucius. Not me. The Dark Lord wants his followers to know they had a   
choice, and that they gave themselves to him freely."  
  
Involuntarily, he rubbed at his left forearm. The Dark Mark,   
hidden beneath his sleeve, was a wound more painful than any of his   
bruises. Unlike them, it would never completely go away.  
  
"I haven't done enough for Draco. I've taught him all the wrong   
things." Snape's voice was quiet, but I could hear his pain. "I'm going   
to lose him forever. He's going to Fall."  
  
"You weren't lost," I said softly. "Not forever."  
  
He shook his head, tears in his voice even if they weren't on his   
face. "I wouldn't wish my life, my choices, on anyone. I wanted Draco's   
path to be easier than mine."   
  
He sighed, bitterly. "You couldn't possibly understand."  
  
I thought of Callandra, and my own fears for her. I did   
understand. Better than he knew.  
  
END OF CHAPTER TWO  
******  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Melodie: Thank you!! Harry knows that Snape is Dumbledore's spy. He did   
not actually see Snape in his visions, but thanks to Sirius's and   
Filch's reactions to the injured Potions Master, Harry knows that Snape   
was involved in Callandra's rescue.  
  
Elspeth: Thank you!! And YES!!! That's exactly the reaction that I was   
hoping for. Why should Callandra be forced to scrub floors, just because   
she's a Squib? "Squib" is part of who she is, not ALL of who she is.   
(Er... sorry. I was channeling Hyacinth Moffitt for a moment there.)   
  
Filch's lowly position in the Wizarding world is all too realistic, but   
it hurts to think of someone so much younger not having better choices   
available to her! Callandra's magic may be slight but she does have   
magic, though it's different from the "mainstream." She can do things in   
a way that "regular" magic-users can't.  
  
Draco doesn't know much about his father's illness, though he suspects   
and is fishing for clues. I don't know what choices Rowling is going to   
have him make in the actual books (though I'm keeping my fingers crossed   
that he'll eventually join Dumbledore) and I want to stay close to   
canon. So, I'm not going to have Draco choose in my stories. But I did   
want the shadow of his choice to be looming over him, as well as Snape's   
fears for him.  
  
Yes, Severus and Sirius would instantly join forces against anyone who   
suggested that they might actually be getting along well with each   
other.  
  
I really liked what you wrote about Snape and his father in "Not All   
Scars Are Visible." You captured a complex relationship very neatly.   
Snape's desire to please a man who, clearly, he could never hope to   
please was heartbreaking. (And his reaction to his father's Death in   
"Prophet of Doom" was even more heartbreaking.)  
  
Everyone, go read Elspeth's stories!!!  
  
Ryven: Thank you!! More about Callandra's abilities in the next chapter.   
Maybe kittens too, if the story cooperates.  
  
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!! I like both Severus and Sirius. They're   
adorable when they're sniping at each other.  
  
WG: Thank you!! Yes, from Snape's point of view, Neville and Ron's   
attack on Crabbe and Goyle was unprovoked. Crabbe and Goyle had only   
gone over to stand next to Pansy. Neither one had insulted Callandra or   
Hermione. Neither one had yet made a move against the Gryffindors.   
Hermione noticed this. "They might have only been coming over to   
restrain Pansy," she said. And Hermione was in the best position to see.  
  
As understandable as I find Neville and Ron's actions, the Gryffindors   
aren't always right, and the Slytherins aren't always wrong.  
  
Darkrose: Thank you!! Callandra's parents and Dumbledore all want   
Callandra to have a number of choices open to her. And they all want her   
to be safe. Unlike most other Squibs, the Death Eaters are aware of who   
and what she is, so for now, Hogwarts is her best choice.  
  
Rabbit: Thank you!! I agree that Potions is probably one of the most   
Squib-accessible disciplines of magic.  
  
Jelsemium: Thank you!! It's true that Snape is always going to defend   
his Slytherins, whether they're right or wrong. But Crabbe and Goyle   
really hadn't done anything except walk over to Pansy. They can't help   
being big and threatening.  
  
It's true that Ron and Neville couldn't have done anything "right" by   
Snape in that situation. They were doomed to get detention the moment   
Pansy started insulting Callandra and Hermione defended her.  
  
Severus has the difficult task of trying to guide his Slytherins away   
from the Dark because he's the one that they're most likely to listen   
to, even with all the mistakes he's made in his life. But he also has   
the difficult task of being a double-agent, who can't allow his true   
loyalties to show. It's a complicated dance. No wonder the poor man is   
crabby and sarcastic.   
  
Yes, Dumbledore has a deeper plan than just making Callandra Filch's   
assistant. He let in a werewolf and a half-giant, didn't he?  
  
Callandra would still need Filch to take her through a Door. The Doors   
became "keyed" to Filch over the years because he was the only Squib in   
the Castle and the only one who could possibly enter them. He's still   
the only one who can summon and enter them, with the exception of the   
Heirs. (And each Heir could only, after years of practice, summon and   
use their own Founder's Door.)  
  
But Callandra wouldn't get sick if he took her through any of the Four   
Doors and there'd be no "resistance" on their journey.   
  
(In fact, should Harry ever get taken through red-and-gold, he might be   
puzzled because the Door is reacting to him like it would react to a   
Squib.)  
  
Thanks for telling me about the new chapter and the filksong! I rushed   
over to read & review!  
  
Tina: Thank you!!  
  
UnrepententReader: Thank you!! I hadn't planned on writing the meeting   
between Hyacinth and Neville's Gran, but who knows? The two of them   
might get along surprisingly well...   
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! YES!! It's unfair to assume that any Squib   
who comes to the Castle is going to automatically have a scrubbing brush   
shoved into her hands, right before she's directed down to a gloomy   
dungeon office. Callandra's parents don't want her to live Filch's life   
and Filch doesn't want that for her either.  
  
Gramarye: Thank you!! Snape gave all the Gryffindors detention because   
they kept loudly defending Ron and Neville. Their yelling gave Snape a   
terrible headache and his head was one of the few places that didn't   
ache already. He got very cranky.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle did not actually deserve the attack from The White   
Knights of Gryffindor, since they hadn't done anything. It was Pansy who   
was being rude. Neville and Ron would not hit her, of course.  
  
(My thoughts on Vincent and Gregory is that they are content with their   
role in life, which is a simple one. Defend their young lord and his   
lady.)  
  
Demeter: Thank you!! Believe it or not, I'm rather fond of Pansy too.   
She's quite protective of the younger children in her own house. (In   
"Squib Wizard" she was the one who was watching over both Lilith and   
Gehenna, and Pansy's screams saved Gehenna when the vine tendril   
attacked the smaller girl.)  
  
It was also Pansy whom Snape and Dumbledore trusted to get the copper   
sulfate crystals from Snape's storeroom and bring them out to Hagrid,   
after the bonfire.  
  
Pansy's deep loyalties to Draco and Slytherin House don't extend to   
Gryffindors or Squibs, and yes, any Gryffindor-eye view of Pansy is   
bound to be unflattering.  
  
Miche: Thank you!!  
  
Bluemeanies: Thank you!! You have a point about the recaps. I'll try not   
to do it so often.   
  
RioRaptor: Thank you!! A picture of Callandra? Cool!! My e-mail (which   
I'll get around to posting on my author page one of these days) is:  
ozmaz2002@yahoo.net  
  
Alchemine: Thank you for both the kind comments and the story!! I know   
what you mean about those parenting moments. I had some of my worst   
parenting moments while waiting on various lines. (When he was two, my   
rambunctious older son knocked down the Post Office Christmas tree while   
I was waiting on line to mail packages. I was pregnant with my younger   
son at the time. Couldn't help feeling like everyone in the Post Office   
was looking at me and thinking "Oh, GOD, she's having another one!")  
  
Yes, Callandra deserves better than to be "kept at home like a shameful   
secret." Since Rowling hasn't said very much about Squibs and how   
they're treated, I'm making assumptions. But it seems as if there would   
be the same sort of prejudice against them that there is against Muggles   
and Muggle-borns.  
  
None of the Moffitts are aware of the roles that Filch and Snape played   
in saving Callandra's life. And they don't know who the big, black dog   
really is. The identities of Dumbledore's secret agents remain   
uncompromised. 


	3. New Arrivals

A Squib's Proper Place  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma  
a Sequel to "To Save A Squib"  
Chapter 3: New Arrivals  
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling  
  
  
  
The large chestnut wardrobe in my bedroom usually contains only my   
brown coat, my shirts and breeches; also brown, and the bottle green   
tailcoat that I wear on special occasions. There's plenty of room at the   
bottom of the wardrobe for a cardboard nesting box with a mother cat and   
a litter of four kittens. A fifth kitten would be joining us   
momentarily.  
  
A few weeks earlier, Hermione Granger had helped me cut the box so   
that the sides were high enough to keep small, curious kittens inside   
but low enough to permit their mother to come and go. The box was lined   
with many soft, absorbent cloths. Birth is a messy business.  
  
Poppy and Hermione had both seemed to know that tonight was the   
night that Mrs. Norris would have her kittens. Poppy had told me to keep   
a close watch on my cat when I'd visited the hospital wing earlier this   
evening. And Hermione, who'd been keeping track of the days, had said in   
very serious tones, "it's day sixty three, Mr. Filch!" just before I'd   
dismissed the Gryffindors from their detention.  
  
Mrs. Norris had approved of both the nesting box and its location.   
I'd known that Hermione and Poppy were right when my cat had chosen to   
sleep in there instead of on the bed beside me.  
  
I'd taken my pillow and a blanket to lie on the floor near the   
open wardrobe, so I could wait with her.  
  
Her labor had begun in the middle of the night. The sky outside my   
window was beginning to lighten as kitten number five joined her   
brothers and sisters.   
  
Each kitten was duly weighed, measured, and the resulting   
information was entered into the ledger that Hermione had given me. My   
writing was awkward and messy because of my injured right arm and hand,   
but still readable.  
  
Number six, who arrived about fifteen minutes after number five,   
seemed determined to enter the world the tail first. (Numbers two and   
three had also been breech births.) Fortunately this one, like the   
others, emerged without too much additional difficulty.  
  
Around twenty minutes later, a seventh kitten emerged. Poor Mrs.   
Norris had not yet settled down to nurse her babies. After another ten   
minutes had passed and number eight was born, she finally relaxed.   
  
Mrs. Norris blinked her golden eyes at me, looking quite relieved.   
"That's over!" she was clearly thinking. I stroked and praised her. She   
was my brave one, my beautiful one, such a wonderful mother!  
  
While removing the soiled cloths and towels from the nesting box   
and replacing them with fresh, clean ones, I praised the kittens too.   
  
Newborn kittens resemble blind, deaf, floppy rats, but Mrs. Norris   
might have clawed my nose off if I had not said kind things about her   
darlings.  
  
I'd remembered the fear and sorrow connected with Mrs. Norris's   
previous litter of kittens. But I'd forgotten the joy, and how the sight   
of them could squeeze my heart. They were so frighteningly vulnerable.   
Three tiny queens; all various shades of grey, and five tiny toms. Two   
of the toms were ginger-colored like Crookshanks, their father. One tom   
was grey, one was a patch-work of ginger and black, and the last one was   
completely black.  
  
While Mrs. Norris washed and nursed her brood, I made a note of   
each kitten's gender and coloring. My handwriting grew progressively   
messier, but I wanted to write everything down for Hermione.  
  
I knew that it would be at least two weeks before I could allow   
anyone else to view the kittens, even briefly. Mrs. Norris had been very   
firm on that point the last time she'd had kittens. This time would   
probably be no different. An exception would be Madam Pomfrey, who would   
come in a few days to Charm the kittens against the illnesses that they   
would otherwise be vulnerable to.   
  
Hermione had been disappointed about the two week wait, but she'd   
seemed to understand. I was determined to keep careful notes until she   
was allowed to see the kittens for herself.  
  
The other children who'd asked for kittens would have to be   
patient too. I'd explained to each of them that it was Mrs. Norris that   
they needed to convince, not me. The best I could do was try to put in a   
good word for them.  
  
Everyone knew that Ginny Weasley would be getting one of the   
kittens. Mrs. Norris and I were very fond of Ginny. Colin Creevey had   
wanted two kittens; one for himself and one for his brother, Dennis.   
Mrs. Norris had seemed receptive to both boys. I was glad, though the   
thought of Mrs. Norris's kittens being "fixed" the Muggle way did upset   
me. (I hoped that Colin and Dennis could convince their parents that   
Charms were an effective method for preventing unplanned kittens.   
Strange as it may seem, Muggles seem to put more faith in their own   
methods, even when their children are wizards.)  
  
Lilith and Gehenna Morgan, two small sisters from Slytherin, had   
also asked for a pair of kittens. Mrs. Norris had seemed inclined to   
grant their request. Hannah Abbot was the last among those that Mrs.   
Norris had clearly chosen to receive a kitten. That meant six kittens   
were spoken for, and two still needed homes.  
  
Other children had asked for kittens, so I wasn't worried about   
the last two being unwanted.  
  
The sun was completely up now and I was exhausted. Curling up on   
the floor again, I was lulled into a peaceful doze by the sound of   
contented maternal purring coming from the nesting box.  
  
Suddenly, small strong hands were shaking my shoulders. Blearily,   
I opened my eyes to find myself face to face with a house-elf.  
  
"Mr. Filch is not at breakfast!" Dobby said. "And Hermione Granger   
is wanting to know, is kittens born yet?" The elf grinned broadly.  
  
"See for yourself," I yawned. "Please tell Hermione that she's a   
"gran" now, eight times over."  
  
*******  
  
Mrs. Norris was well supplied with food and water. What she and   
the kittens needed most now was peace and quiet.  
  
Delivering kittens and writing everything down had taken their   
toll on my right hand and arm. I'd ignored the pain for as long as I   
could, but now I decided to go and see Poppy.  
  
Someone, either Dobby or Hermione (probably both) had spread the   
news. The corridors were full of children on their way to classes. I was   
congratulated many times on my way to the hospital wing.  
  
After adding her congratulations to those I'd already gotten, and   
listening to a detailed account of each delivery, Poppy checked my arm   
and hand. She reassured me that my injuries were mending nicely. Then   
she gave me a slightly stronger than usual pain-killing potion.  
  
Sirius Black also appeared to be mending. The Animagus was now   
able to limp restlessly around the hospital wing in his human form,   
which he was currently wearing since Poppy and I were the only ones in   
the ward with him.  
  
The Animagus had listened to me while I'd described the kittens'   
arrival. He'd smiled and congratulated me, though he was clearly   
preoccupied about something.  
  
"It's Snape," Black growled, when I asked him what was wrong. "You   
know what he did. He gave every Gryffindor fifth year detention last   
night! The greasy GIT."  
  
"He's not a git," I said, automatically. "He was sore and cranky.   
It made him bad tempered."  
  
The Animagus snorted.  
  
"Even more bad tempered than usual," I amended.  
  
"You always did take his side." Black folded his arms across his   
chest.  
  
"Perhaps I'm defending Severus because he never once put dungbombs   
in my desk. Or used sticking-curses on my broom cupboard doorknobs. Or   
hexed my mops. Or turned my wash-water into Mrs. Skower's flavored   
custard and set the pail up to fall on me. Or blew up my office toilet   
with fireworks," I replied, somewhat testily.  
  
Black's grin was rueful. The expression made his gaunt face look   
younger, a bit more like the incorrigible brat that I remembered.  
  
"Please accept my belated apologies," he said. "Blowing up the   
toilet was really an accident. We were trying to flush away the   
evidence..."  
  
I sighed. "Did Potter tell you about the detention?"  
  
"Yes, I got that much out of him. He wasn't the one who told me it   
was Snape who'd given it, though."  
  
"He's wise beyond his years, that boy," I murmured. "How did you   
find out if Harry wouldn't say?""   
  
Poppy answered. "He overheard that bit of gossip from Callandra   
Moffit. She was in here with her parents this morning."   
  
"Is Callandra all right?" I asked, anxiously.  
  
Poppy nodded. "I only needed to examine her, and ask her Mum and   
Dad for some information about any of her past health problems."  
  
I sighed. Squibs usually have longer and more complicated health   
records that most proper witches and wizards do.   
  
"I needed the information for her school records," Poppy said.  
  
"Her s-school records...?" I asked. "She's going to be a student   
at Hogwarts then?  
  
Poppy smiled. "Albus was making arrangements with her parents   
yesterday. Today Callandra is going to be tested by each Professor to   
see which subjects she'll be able to manage best, and to which degree."  
  
Potter had been right!! I knew that I was grinning like a fool,   
but I hardly cared.  
  
Madam Pomfrey turned to the Animagus. "Whatever you're planning to   
do to Severus, don't!" She said, sternly. "I was thinking of allowing   
you to take a walk today, but if I can't trust you to be good..."  
  
Black gave her an innocent, decidedly puppy-eyed look. "I'll   
behave, I swear!"  
  
"I'll take him for a walk right now and make sure of it," I   
promised Poppy. "We'll go outside. He won't be anywhere near Severus."  
  
I thought that Black would object to me walking with him, but the   
Animagus did not seem to mind. He must have been terribly bored.  
  
Black was studying me, gravely. "Filch. I never thanked you for   
what you did. Blocking Vol..."  
  
Both Poppy and I looked at him in alarm.   
  
He sighed. "Blocking the Dark Lord's Curse. Before it could hit   
me."  
  
I felt embarrassed. "You'd already saved me. Stopped me from   
drowning. And I didn't thank you for it either."  
  
"That was after you'd gotten both of us away from the Death Eaters   
and out of the falling tower," he said.  
  
"You stood between me and the Dark Lord!" I pointed out. "Which   
was exceptionally stupid of you. I'm grateful, of course. But if you'd   
had any sense you would have taken Callandra and left me."  
  
Black's eyes became haunted. "You'd have been worse than dead,   
Filch. I couldn't do that."  
  
His pale eyes were full of shadows. Harry had told me a great deal   
about Sirius. His godfather was innocent of betraying James and Lily,   
but he still blamed himself for their deaths at the Dark Lord's hands.  
  
The expression on his face distressed me. Of course I didn't miss   
the mischievous Marauding brat he'd been, but I didn't want to see him   
looking like he was in the company of Dementors either.  
  
"All right," I muttered, gruffly. "It's not a Quidditch match. No   
one's keeping score."  
  
"Thank you for trusting me, even after you knew who I was," Sirius   
Black added, very quietly. He took his dog form and we left the hospital   
wing together.  
  
  
*******  
  
"Neville really thinks that he's a Squib!" Callandra's voice was   
astonished.  
  
Callandra's next test was scheduled to be with Hagrid, for Care of   
Magical Creatures. Hagrid was still teaching a class at the moment.   
  
The girl was waiting for him, sitting with Black and me, in the   
grass near Hagrid's hut. Her ebony hair was in a different pattern than   
it had been on the day I'd met her; many small braids wound carefully   
together in a pretty twist at the nape of her neck.  
  
Both her new hairstyle and her grave expression made the child   
look older than her fifteen years.  
  
"Maybe you can convince him otherwise," I said. "Merlin knows,   
I've tried."  
  
"He'd believe us if he could only *feel* how much magic he has in   
him," Callandra said, wistfully. "I never knew that feeling magic is   
just, you know... a Squib thing. I thought everyone could do it."  
  
"I did too." I told her.  
  
"Neville's great Uncle actually pushed him off the end of   
Blackpool pier!" Callandra said, indignantly. "Nearly drowned him! Can   
you imagine? Neville's so brave about things like that. Mum always sent   
anyone who wanted to `cure' me packing. I'm glad that my family didn't   
treat me like Neville's family treated him. Even though he says that   
they really meant well."  
  
Her voice got softer. "I'm sure, if his Mum and Dad could be with   
Neville, they would *never* have let anyone hurt him."  
  
Her protective tone made me smile.  
  
Callandra stroked the Animagus, who blinked at her, sleepily.   
Black's slow walk around the Castle grounds had really tired him out.  
  
"I can't believe I'm really going to be allowed to come here..."   
Callandra said. "I keep expecting to wake up and find out that it's been   
a dream. A very pleasant dream, after a nightmare..." she added, with a   
shiver.  
  
I watched her deliberately push all thoughts of the Death Eaters   
away. "Mum and Dad say that I'll be safe here," she murmured, half to   
herself. "The Headmaster says so too. I thought I'd be afraid of him,   
but he's so kind. He told me that the things I can do are really rare   
gifts."  
  
She was biting her lip. "I'm not scared of Professor Dumbledore,   
but I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't afraid at all. I've always   
thought I had no magic. What if the Headmaster was just being kind to   
me, Mr. Filch?"  
  
She took a deep breath. "The Potions Master tested me today. He's   
every bit as frightening as Neville said he was!" She shivered. "I think   
I did all right. At least I did everything that he told me to do, in the   
proper order, with all the right measurements. I think the potion came   
out the way it was supposed to. But he didn't say anything when I'd   
finished."  
  
"If he didn't say anything, then you must have done well," I said.   
"Professor Snape certainly would have let you hear about your mistakes."  
  
I wondered if Callandra would ever learn how Severus had risked   
his life to save her. I wished that I could tell her.  
  
"Professor Snape does smell rather nice for such a terrifying   
man," Callandra said, thoughtfully. "Like strawberries with a bit of   
orange or lemon peel added."  
  
My eyes widened. The glamour! She'd described the scent of it,   
exactly. She did not seem to know what she was sensing though, and I   
couldn't tell her about that either. I sighed.  
  
"Mr. Filch? May I ask you something? The Castle looks normal to me   
now, but the first time I came through the gates with Mum and Dad, for   
the party, I saw two images. One was the Castle like it really is..."  
  
"And the other?" I asked her, "Was it almost a ghost-image? The   
Castle as a ruin? The way Muggles are supposed to see Hogwarts?"  
  
She nodded vigorously. "Yes! Oh, I was afraid to tell anyone! The   
first time you ever came here, did you...?"  
  
"Yes," I said, quietly, remembering my own initial glimpse of the   
Castle, years and years ago. I'd been sick with fright, thinking that it   
must mean that I was practically a Muggle.   
  
"I've never told anyone either. Too afraid," I confessed. "Now, I   
believe that all it really means is that we know the spell's there."  
  
"You've probably been reacting to magic all your life," I   
continued, my voice quivering a bit. "Spells can make you sneeze or   
itch. They can make you see things that no one else around you seems to   
notice are there."  
  
Callandra nodded, brown eyes wide and serious.  
  
My voice got a little firmer. "I'm sure that there will be people   
here who will question your right to be a student. Try to remember what   
the Headmaster told you. You do have magic gifts, Callandra. Not the   
same gifts as the other students. But rare and precious ones,   
nonetheless."  
  
Deep in conversation, neither Callandra nor I had heard Hagrid   
approaching til his huge shadow fell across us.  
  
"I'm ready for yeh now." Hagrid said, cheerfully. His huge hand   
was outstretched to help the girl to her feet. "Don't be afraid. Yeh'll   
do alrig'."  
  
Callandra might have been afraid. But she stood up, straight and   
proud, her hand in his.  
  
"I'm ready," she said.   
  
END OF CHAPTER THREE  
********  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Alchemine: Thank you!!  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! The question of what the Sorting Hat will do   
with Callandra will be dealt with eventually.  
  
ThePet: Thank you!!   
  
WG: Thank you!! If Draco decides not to follow his father's path, it   
wouldn't be because he's just afraid of the risks and the pain.   
Slytherins "use any means to achieve their ends" and will probably   
endure any amount of pain or take any risk as long as the eventual prize   
is worth it. Snape is trying to get Draco to realize that the "prize" of   
serving the Dark Lord isn't worth the cost.  
  
The kittens are here. Gehenna's sister Lilith will probably show up next   
chapter. Gehenna will appear eventually, since she's getting a kitten   
too.  
  
There's an excellent story by Andolyn called "Muggle." The story's   
heroine is a strong woman who finds herself mixed up in the Wizarding   
World, but remains uncowed by the magical folk. HLB wrote a story called   
"Pesky Muggle" about a woman who accidentally goes through the platform   
at Kings Cross. Another excellent story.  
  
Ezra: Thank you!! (And thank you for telling me about "Bitter   
Reflections!") Excellent point that Snape is not the only force guiding   
his young Slytherins. If they fall to the Dark, it's not all his fault.   
He's the last hope to save the ones who come from Death Eater families,   
and he feels the responsibility very strongly.  
  
Melodie: Thank you! I'm planning to have some second year Slytherins   
show up in the next chapter. (Just so Callandra will know that not all   
Slytherins are scary.)  
  
Gramayre: Thank you!!  
  
RowanRhys: Thank you!!   
  
Quoth the Raven: Thank you!! My son's learning disabilities are   
invisible handicaps but other children still perceived the differences   
in him and treated him very cruelly, especially when he was younger. His   
classes were a mixture of "mainstream" and "special ed." The special ed   
classes were a much better environment for him. His classes have gotten   
more mainstreamed as he's gotten older, with mixed results. Some other   
kids still treat him badly, but most of the kids who have known him for   
years don't. Being treated badly still hurts, even if not as many people   
are doing it.  
  
I'm sorry about what both you and your sister Nicole went through. I   
remember wanting to slap other children who were verbally abusing my   
son. Especially since (in one particularly memorable instance) the other   
kid's mother was *right there* and didn't even seem aware of what a   
little b*st*rd her son was being. I dragged my son away from hers, too   
angry to say anything.  
  
RioRaptor: Thank you!! Argus would be stunned if he ever realized that   
he's got anything in common with The Boy Who Lived.  
  
Demeter: Thank you!! Like you, I'm hoping that Rowling will show that   
Slytherin House is not entirely made up of Death Eaters. I did hear a   
rumor, about Harry and Draco teaming up in one of the later books, so   
this gives me a reason to be optimistic. Yes, if Snape can save Draco,   
it will almost certainly mean that he can also save Pansy, Crabbe and   
Goyle, since they are all loyal to Draco.  
  
Even if poor Draco "falls" he may not be lost forever. The path that   
Severus took is still open to him. (In fact, one of the paths that I can   
see Draco deliberately choosing, is to be a "double-agent," determined   
to save both his father and Snape. I've got some fragmentary scene ideas   
for this, but no real fleshed out story yet.)  
  
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!!   
  
Elspeth: Thank you!! You describe Snape's dilemma with Draco very well.   
Snape would like nothing better than to tell him not to make the same   
mistakes he made. But would Draco listen? Snape has to make Draco SEE on   
his own, that following Voldemort is the wrong path.  
  
UnrepententReader: Thank you!!  
  
Jelsemium: Thank you!! I loved your scene between Sirius and Poppy! 


	4. Testing

A Squib's Proper Place  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
a sequel to "To Save A Squib"  
Chapter 4: Testing  
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
  
  
  
"I hope that Hagrid hasn't gotten a Manticore or some other   
monster for Callandra's test..." I muttered.  
  
To my chagrin I discovered that I'd been nervously petting the   
huge black dog who rested in the grass beside me. Even worse, I'd just   
been about to scratch him behind the ears.  
  
Fortunately, Sirius Black did not seem to have noticed. The   
Animagus was dozing.  
  
But, a moment later, my frightened shout startled him onto his   
feet.  
  
Callandra Moffitt, soon to be the first Squib ever admitted to   
Hogwarts as a student, (assuming that she survived the Professors'   
tests) had just soared into the air above Hagrid's hut! She was riding   
on the back of a pinkish roan hippogriff!  
  
"Callandra...!" My voice was a terrified squeak. What was Hagrid   
thinking?! What was the Headmaster thinking, allowing that oaf to test   
her, unsupervised!?!  
  
I jumped to my feet, prepared to rush over to Hagrid's hut and   
do... something.   
  
The huge dog grabbed my shirt-tail in his teeth. Sirius Black was   
recuperating from severe injuries. Even so, the beast was very strong.   
He pulled me over backwards.  
  
For the briefest of moments the Animagus resumed his human form.  
  
"Calm down, Filch! She's happy! Look!" Black hissed in my ear. A   
heartbeat later, he was a dog again.   
  
It was true, I realized. Callandra's face was filled with joy.   
Unlike most other children born into the Wizarding world, she'd never   
been able to fly a broom on her own.  
  
Callandra was now gracefully riding the hippogriff in a descending   
spiral over Hagrid's hut.  
  
"Good work!!" I could hear Hagrid's shout from behind the hut, as   
Callandra and the hippogriff made a (hopefully) safe landing. The   
paddock was hidden from Black's view and mine. We could hear other,   
younger voices cheering.  
  
I realized that we'd never seen the students in Hagrid's Care of   
Magical Creatures class leaving to go back to the Castle.  
  
That oaf! Had he actually made Callandra take the test in front of   
so many witnesses?   
  
My heart was still pounding with fright when Hagrid led a crowd of   
children around the front of his hut, towards the dog and me.  
  
Hagrid's class was made up of second year Ravenclaws and   
Slytherins. All the children, from both houses, seemed to be jumping   
around, talking and being generally boisterous.   
  
Callandra was in their midst, grinning as if she'd just had the   
most wonderful experience of her young life. She was walking with a   
slim, dark skinned Ravenclaw boy. He looked so much like her that he   
could only be her younger brother, Daniel.  
  
The boy's face was as delighted as his sister's, and full of pride   
in her accomplishment.  
  
"Mr. Filch!! Did you see?" Callandra called over to me, her arm   
across her brother's shoulders. "I rode a hippogriff! Wasn't he lovely?   
It was so much fun!! Mum's taken me up on her broom a few times, but   
that was different!!"  
  
Hadn't the poor child sense enough to realize the danger she'd   
been in? Apparently not. I wanted to glower at Hagrid but there were   
children all around me now, petting Sirius, asking me about the kittens,   
and then Callandra was introducing me to Daniel.  
  
Then, a small Slytherin girl was tugging at my sleeve. "Mr. Filch?   
When can Henna and I see our kittens?"  
  
"In two weeks, Lilith..." I said, gruffly.  
  
"How many female kittens are there?" Lilith Morgan went on,   
excitedly. "Henna is sure that she wants a female, but I'd take a male   
if there aren't enough females."  
  
"They're called `queens' and `toms,' Lil!" One of the Slytherin   
boys said, in exasperation.  
  
"I know that, Graham!" Lilith shot back.  
  
"Did you also know that a group of cats is called a "clowder?"   
Graham retorted.  
  
"Yes, I did. So there!" Lilith volleyed.  
  
My head was beginning to throb. Rubbing my temples, I wondered if   
there was a special term that one could use for a group of noisy   
children. There was "brats" of course, but these children weren't   
actually misbehaving, they were only being loud.  
  
Black was surrounded by children too, petting his back and   
stroking his head. To my relief, the Gryffindor Animagus showed no signs   
of snapping at the young Slytherins who were near him. He was even   
allowing young Malcolm Baddock to scratch him gently behind the ears.  
  
"Alrigh' the lot o'yeh! Time to get ter Transfiguration Class!"   
Hagrid bellowed. The sound made me clutch my head and moan. "Professor   
McGonagall..."  
  
"Was wondering what was keeping my students, Hagrid."  
  
Minerva was suddenly there, a lovely island of calm in a sea of   
chaos.  
  
"They was jus' watching with me!" Hagrid said, beaming. "Callie's   
passed her Care o' Magical Creatures test!"  
  
"Excellent," Minerva smiled. She held out her hand to Callandra.   
In her other hand she carried a sack which seemed weighted down with an   
assortment of bulges.  
  
"It's time for your Transfiguration test," she told Callandra,   
briskly.  
  
The children all became quiet, as if Minerva had used a silencing   
spell on them. I was as surprised as the children were.  
  
I was going to say something in protest, but Daniel Moffitt spoke   
up before I could find my voice.  
  
"Professor McGonagall? You know that Callie's a Squib..." he said,   
a protective arm around his sister's waist. "She can't..."  
  
Minerva's smile became gentler. "Callandra will not be asked to   
Transfigure anything, Mr. Moffitt. Her talents in the area of   
Transfiguration are somewhat ...different."  
  
Biting her lip nervously, Callandra was looking at me for   
reassurance. I desperately wanted to give her some, but I was as puzzled   
as she was.  
  
Minerva was looking around at the young Ravenclaws and Slytherins.   
"You may sit down on the grass, if you like. Please make sure to give   
Miss Moffitt some room," she began.   
  
"It's all right, Daniel..." she added, as Callandra's brother   
seemed reluctant to leave the girl's side.  
  
Shortly, Callandra and Minerva was the only ones standing. Hagrid,   
Black and I were seated with children all around us. I was clutching at   
Black's fur, nervously.  
  
Reaching into the sack, Minerva pulled out a small rubber ball and   
a ceramic flower pot. She handed both to Callandra.  
  
"Both of these are actually the same. I have Transfigured one of   
them," Professor McGonagall said. "Can you tell me which item is not in   
its true form?"  
  
Poor Black yelped as I inadvertently clutched too hard at his fur.  
  
This was worse than the hippogriff! What was Minerva thinking?!!  
  
Minerva was always fair. I knew that! I trusted her. Minerva would   
never ask Callandra to accomplish an impossible feat. But, as far as I   
knew, the ability to tell if something was Transfigured or not was a   
power reserved for only those witches or wizards most skilled at   
Transfiguration.  
  
The young Ravenclaws and Slytherins knew this too. None of them   
could have done what Minerva was asking of Callandra.   
  
I doubted that I could have done it. Then again, I'd never   
tried...  
  
Callandra stood, brow furrowed. She breathed deeply, turning the   
ball and the flowerpot over in her slender hands.  
  
"Professor?" She said, quietly, after what seemed like a very long   
while, "I think they're both really flower pots."  
  
"Excellent!" Minerva said, as if she'd expected no less. But the   
other children, Hagrid and I all sighed with relief. I saw Daniel   
Moffitt's shoulders sag with released tension. Stewart Ackerly, who was   
sitting beside Daniel, clapped him on the shoulder.  
  
Minerva handed Callandra a small pennywhistle and an empty ink   
bottle.  
  
"They're really pennywhistles," Callandra said, after a few   
moments of thoughtful examination. She sounded a bit more confident now.  
  
When her test had ended, Callandra had been able to tell the   
UnTransfigured items from their Transfigured counterparts, nine times   
out of ten! The young Slytherins and Ravenclaws applauded her when she   
was done.  
  
I realized that both Hagrid and Minerva were using their tests for   
Callandra to serve a dual purpose. They were exploring the girl's   
abilities, and showing them off to other children too.  
  
Their risks had paid off, but what an awful chance they'd both   
taken! I'd been so afraid for Callandra that now I thought I might be   
sick.   
  
When Minerva dismissed the children for lunch, they departed in a   
noisy, laughing group. Daniel was proudly holding his sister's hand.  
  
Minerva, Hagrid, Black and I were left behind.  
  
"Argus... are you all right? You're as pale as Nearly Headless   
Nick," Minerva said.  
  
"No, I'm not all right," I whispered, very aware that I was   
surrounded by Gryffindors. Most of Godric's chosen seem to thrive on   
risks. If they don't take foolish chances at least once a day, that day   
is thought to have been wasted.   
  
"I've just been frightened out of my wits!" I blurted out.  
  
"Had either of you thought about what might have happened if poor   
Callandra had failed?" I asked Minerva and Hagrid, my voice shaking. "In   
front of all those other children! Including her own brother!"   
  
"She might have been hurt by that hippogriff!" I said, glowering   
at Hagrid.  
  
"Or," I looked at Minerva, "what if she couldn't do what you asked   
of her? They might have turned on her, then. Taunted her, or worse. Not   
her brother, but the others. Particularly some of the Slytherins..."  
  
I didn't realize that I was trembling, until Minerva put her hands   
on my shoulders.  
  
"I've had the benefit of Hermione Granger's considerable   
research," Minerva explained. "When two similar inanimate objects are   
placed side by side, and one of them Transfigured, a Squib can nearly   
always tell which item is in its true form and which item isn't. It's   
been documented."  
  
"I didn't know that," I murmured. "Lately, all Hermione and I have   
talked about are the kittens..."  
  
"Callandra did very well, Argus," Minerva said, gently. Her grey   
eyes seemed to fill my whole world. "I had confidence that she would."  
  
"I'm sorry, Minerva." I should not have doubted her.  
  
"As fer the hippogriff," Hagrid reassured me, "he's a good 'un.   
Very used ter people, he is. Callie's a polite girl. Knows how ter   
follow directions. Curtsied ter him like a proper lady. Very respectful.   
Never doubted her fer a moment!"  
  
Quite pleased with how the testing had gone, the big man was now   
sitting cross-legged on the ground. One large hand rested gently on the   
Animagus's back.   
  
"It did her a world a'good ter succeed in front a' so many   
witnesses," Hagrid continued. "Yeh saw her face, Filch."  
  
I had to admit that he was right. Callandra was far braver than   
I'd ever be.  
  
Fang had followed Hagrid over from the hut, to see what his master   
was up to. The boarhound was nose to nose with the Animagus, both huge   
dogs sniffing at each other in a friendly fashion.  
  
After a moment, Fang flopped down next to Black, with a gusty   
sigh.  
  
"I-I should go and check on Mrs. Norris..." I whispered, summoning   
red-and-gold. I was still shaking, though the danger of my being sick   
was receding.  
  
"Argus, wait. I'd like a word," Minerva said.   
  
Gently, but firmly she took hold of my left arm before I could go   
through my Door.  
  
"Y-you may meet me outside my room, if you'd like," I said. I'd   
wanted to be alone, but I couldn't just walk away from Minerva when she   
wished to speak to me. "Perhaps Mrs. Norris won't object if you come in.   
For just a little while. She's fond of you."  
  
I knew that Minerva, of all people, would know how to behave   
around a new mother and kittens.  
  
"Very well, Argus," Minerva said. "I shall see you shortly."  
  
Glancing at Black and Hagrid, I saw that Hagrid was grinning for   
some reason that I could not fathom. And Black was grinning as well, the   
way a dog grins; dangling tongue and eyes dancing.  
  
Wondering what in Merlin's name the two of them were smirking   
about, I spoke to Hagrid.  
  
"You'll see that he gets back to Poppy in the hospital wing, won't   
you?" I asked, nodding towards the Animagus. "Snuffles is not allowed to   
exert himself too much. And keep him out of mischief!"  
  
I stepped through red-and-gold.  
  
*******  
  
Mrs. Norris had not offered any objections to a brief visit from   
Minerva. A short while later Professor McGonagall and I were admiring   
the eight newborn kittens as they nursed.  
  
I'd meant to refill Mrs. Norris's food and water, but one of the   
house-elves had been there first.   
  
I contented myself with simply watching my cat and her brood.  
  
Minerva did not mind sitting on the floor next to me. She enjoyed   
looking at the kittens as much as I did.  
  
Minerva praised the kittens' healthy appetites, a compliment that   
clearly won her a great number of points with Mrs. Norris.  
  
I thought it clever of Minerva to immediately commend the kittens   
on the one thing that the voracious little fluffballs could do really   
well.   
  
But Minerva found additional laudable traits and proceeded to   
admire them with sincerity. She observed how the kittens jostled for   
position with energy and boldness, it was clear that they were healthy   
and strong, they were sure to be clever and patient hunters...!  
  
"*This* one clearly knows an exemplary litter of kittens when she   
sees them!" Mrs. Norris was obviously thinking, as she gave me a   
satisfied look.  
  
"You seem much better now, Argus," Minerva said. "I apologize.   
Hagrid and I did not think that you would be there to see Callandra's   
tests. We did not wish to frighten you."  
  
"No," I protested, embarrassed. "I shouldn't have been so foolish.   
You and Hagrid both want her to succeed, you wouldn't have set her up   
for failure and humiliation."  
  
Minerva was smiling at me, her hands both behind her back. I felt   
a whisper of magic as she performed a conjuring spell.   
  
When she brought her hand out in front of her, she was holding a   
small china shepherdess and a silver teaspoon.  
  
"Which one is Transfigured?" Professor McGonagall asked me.  
  
Nervously, I took the two small items from her, turning them over   
in my hands as Callandra had done. There seemed to be nothing out of the   
ordinary about the shepherdess. But, did the teaspoon seem a bit...   
slippery, when I compared the feel of it to the china figure?  
  
"The spoon," I said, putting them carefully on the floor beside   
me.  
  
Minerva slid her wand out of her sleeve and Transfigured the spoon   
back into its real form.  
  
A small china shepherd now stood beside the shepherdess. They were   
a perfectly matched pair.  
  
"Got it in one!" she told me smiling. "See? It's quite easy for   
you, just as it was for Callandra."  
  
I blushed.   
  
"No witch or wizard who hasn't studied Transfiguration for many   
years could do the same!" Minerva continued.   
  
"Of course, picking out one Transfigured item from many   
dissimilar, unTransfigured items is quite a bit harder than that. And   
being able to detect a Transfigured animate object is far more difficult   
still. But my test was an adequate start. I'm sure that Callandra can   
learn those things in time."  
  
Her grey eyes were shining. "I was concerned that there would be   
nothing that I would be able to teach her," Minerva confessed, quietly.   
"And I did so wish to work with her. I'm sure that we're both going to   
learn a great deal."  
  
Minerva's pleasure delighted me.  
  
"Albus and the Moffitts decided that Callandra's studies must be   
highly individualized to best suit her needs," she said.   
  
"Wherever possible, she will take classes with the other children   
in her year. But, she may be taking some classes with the seventh years!   
Her parents both work with Ancient Runes, and Callandra's knowledge in   
that area is quite advanced..."  
  
Her voice trailed off. She was studying me. "Are you sure that   
you're quite all right, Argus?"   
  
"I'm fine," I said, though my voice was a bit husky. "I was just   
thinking. The way that the other children were all solidly behind her...   
no one taunted her. They really wanted her to do well. I wasn't   
expecting that. I was ...afraid for her."  
  
"I'm sure that Callandra will have to face taunts and teasing,   
Argus. All children do. But the second years of both Ravenclaw and   
Slytherin are a particularly fine group of children. Callandra's brother   
is well-liked among them. And Severus assured me that none of his second   
year Slytherins are from families with ties to the Death Eaters. Hagrid   
and I made quite sure that we could let those children witness two of   
Callandra's tests without undue cause for worry."  
  
I sighed. "The Slytherins with ties to the Death Eaters are going   
to find out about Callandra's presence at Hogwarts soon enough. But this   
school is the safest place in the Wizarding world. They won't be able to   
get to her here. At least not easily."  
  
Minerva's expression had turned both sad and pensive. I knew that   
she was thinking of Cedric Diggory, as I was.  
  
We both knew that no place in the Wizarding world was completely   
safe these days. Not even Hogwarts.  
  
"I've been mostly safe here," I said. Taking Minerva's hand in   
mine seemed like the most natural thing in the world. I wished to   
comfort her.  
  
"I usually tell myself that my parents brought me here and   
convinced Headmaster Dippet and Apollyon Pringle to take me on simply   
because they wanted to make sure that I had a secure position." I   
murmured. "And, it was one of their reasons. But not their only one."  
  
"They never told me," I continued, even more softly. "But they   
must have known, somehow. About Dark magic and Squibs. Mum was always   
reading. She and Dad must have brought me to Hogwarts to keep me safe   
from G-Grindelwald."  
  
Saying his name was still frightening. The bogeyman of my youth.   
  
"I never figured that out till I started thinking about it, only a   
few months back. It worked, didn't it? If Grindelwald was looking for   
Squibs, he never found me. Nor did any of his followers."  
  
Minerva squeezed my hand, gently. "Finding you was quite a task   
for a number of years, Argus. You hid yourself away so well. From the   
students, from nearly everyone. You worked hard, but you were rarely   
seen."  
  
"Like a proper house-elf..." I said, a little bitterly. I sighed.   
Thinking about my early days at the Castle was not something that I   
enjoyed doing. "Hard work and pain are the best teachers." It's   
something I often tell the students here. Hard work I learned about from   
my parents, particularly my Dad. I learned about pain from Apollyon   
Pringle.  
  
Though, to be fair to the old man, he'd saved most of his real ire   
for the students. He'd never once put me in chains. And old Pringle   
hadn't even beaten me very often once I'd proven that I could do things   
the way that he wanted them done.  
  
"Work hard, boy. Keep your head low. Know your proper place. And   
we'll get along fine."  
  
No one was ever going to tell Callandra those things. Her place at   
Hogwarts would never be the same as mine.  
  
Minerva was pulling me to my feet.  
  
"We've nearly missed lunch, and you already missed breakfast this   
morning," she said. "We'd better hurry."  
  
As we stood up, her hand slipped from mine. But her smile   
continued to warm me.  
  
I felt a rush of contentment that was quite separate from the joy   
I already felt for Callandra.  
  
And, Sirius Black and any mischief that he might be planning for   
poor Severus, were the furthest thoughts from my mind.  
  
END OF CHAPTER FOUR  
**********  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
  
Ryven: Thank you! The question of the Sorting Hat will be dealt with   
soon, as will the question of Callandra's House. I agree that Filch   
would have been a Hufflepuff. (He admires Ravenclaws, but doesn't   
understand them. He admires both Slytherins and Gryffindors too, but he   
thinks that they're all a bit crazy.)  
  
Robert: Thank you!! Sorry about the e-mail... my mailbox was   
overflowing. I hadn't deleted any messages in a while. It's all cleaned   
out now, though.  
  
Filch thinks he's too old to take classes with the children. Though he   
is going to learn a great deal, through Callandra. And he already knows   
far more than he thinks he knows.  
  
The thought of Snape teaching Filch made me laugh out loud!  
  
Elspeth: Thank you!! Some of the Slytherins will be kind to Callandra,   
others won't. Snape will be the teacher that Callandra fears the most,   
because she will only see the face that the Potions Master presents to   
most of the school.  
  
My thoughts on Squibs being able to sense Transfigurations are that   
Animate Transfigurations are more difficult to pick up on than Inanimate   
ones. If the Squib is already familiar with the Animagus in their other   
form (as Filch is with Minerva) then the Squib would know they weren't   
dealing with a true animal. Being able to tell an Animagus from an   
ordinary animal is probably something that a Squib can learn, given   
enough time and practice.  
  
Miriam: Thank you!! The relationship between Snape and Filch has   
intrigued me ever since the first book. I really liked it that Filch was   
looking after Snape. I can see Filch being similarly protective of Harry   
one day, if he isn't already. You're very welcome!!  
  
Larania: Thank you!!   
  
Mystical Witch: Thank you!! I read a wonderful story about Snape with a   
kitten. It was called "Minnaloushe," I think. It's been a while since I   
read it and I may have the title wrong. I wish I could remember the   
author's name... anyway, I do have plans for one of the two unclaimed   
kittens and I'm still not sure about the last one. The idea of Snape   
with a kitten is adorable. Maybe too adorable to resist...!  
  
Lataradk: Thank you!! Yes, Hagrid did have an 'interestin' creature' for   
Callandra's test. But, she had fun anyhow. My family says "Hi!"  
  
Pansy will probably show up again in a later chapter.  
  
Jelsemium: Thank you!! A Ravenclaw is going to get one of the unclaimed   
kittens. (It won't be Cho, though.) I meant to get to Callandra's   
impressions of Harry this chapter, but it didn't happen. Perhaps next   
chapter! Callandra is quite in awe of Harry, and was too shy to talk to   
him at the party when Neville introduced her to him.  
  
Demeter: Thank you!! Snape would agree that Filch has an innocence about   
him... for an old grouch. And he's certainly an innocent, compared to   
Snape. (I don't know if Rowling will provide a past history for Filch.   
Until she does, I made some assumptions.)  
  
I read the rumor about Harry and Draco teaming up in one of the later   
books on one of the websites that has rumors about the unpublished   
books. I'm not sure of the actual site, but there were several different   
sites with rumors on them.  
  
UnrepententReader: Thank you!! (Sirius definitely wants to prank Severus   
again.)  
  
Helen: Thank you!! I don't want Snape to be too nice either. He's more   
fun when he's his nasty-but-noble complicated self.   
  
Neville's had a year to mature, which is why he could seem older. He's   
discovered his own talents in herbology and used them to help people.   
And he's fallen in love. All of these have been growing experiences.   
Neville has always seemed like a mature person to me, ever since he   
stood up to Harry, Ron and Hermione in the first book.  
  
Melodie: Thank you!! Yes, Neville and Callandra are an item.  
  
Gramarye: Thank you!! Yes, eight kittens... no wonder the poor cat   
looked like stuffed pillow.  
  
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!! Snape was being unfair when he gave all the   
fifth year Gryffindors detention. (In his defense, he was sore and   
cranky.) He was supposed to be spending the day resting, but Professor   
Grubbly-Plank didn't want to teach his fifth year Gryffindors and   
Slytherins. He entered the room to find a fight between Neville and Ron   
vs Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
He gave Ron and Neville detention. When their fellow Gryffindors   
protested too loudly, he gave them all detention too.  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Snape doesn't know what the glamour smells   
like. Filch knew better than to tell the Potions Master that he smelled   
like strawberries. Callandra has noticed that Hagrid's hippogriff also   
smells like strawberries. She thinks that Hagrid uses the same bath soap   
on his pets that Snape uses for himself.  
  
My cat usually sits on my lap and drools on me while I type. Cats are   
fun... 


	5. Bad Dog

A Squib's Proper Place  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma  
a sequel to "To Save A Squib"  
Chapter 5: Bad Dog  
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling  
  
  
  
A very pleasant time spent with Minerva, concluding with lunch   
together at the staff table in the Great Hall, had driven Sirius Black   
completely from my mind.   
  
It was not until Minerva had left to teach her next class that I   
remembered the Animagus and my responsibility to him. Black, who had   
plenty of healing left to do, tired easily. Could Hagrid be trusted to   
make sure that Black did not overexert himself? Hagrid, whose idea of   
"mild exercise" would be to wrestle with a troll?  
  
Poppy had ordered me to spend the day relaxing. But she would be   
angry with me if I had allowed Black to suffer a setback. I decided that   
I'd relax much more efficiently once I knew that Sirius Black was back   
in the hospital wing, where he belonged.  
  
Hagrid, Fang and "Snuffles" were not in Hagrid's hut, nor were   
they on the grounds nearby. Hagrid's garden was coming along nicely, but   
the big man and the two dogs were not there either. The paddock behind   
Hagrid's cabin was empty except for the pinkish-roan hippogriff.  
  
Standing next to the paddock, with no one else in sight, I   
summoned red-and-gold.  
  
"Take me to Hagrid, please..." I told my Door. I stepped through,   
only to emerge back in the same spot I'd entered.  
  
This meant that Hagrid wasn't anywhere on the Castle grounds.   
Where had he gone? Had he taken the dogs as far as Hogsmeade? Or, I   
thought shivering, had he taken them for a romp in the Forbidden Forest?   
Knowing Hagrid, that wouldn't come under the heading of "too much   
exertion" either.  
  
Sighing, I sent red-and-gold away. Then I stood, thinking, next to   
the paddock. The hippogriff looked at me with fierce orange eyes as I   
approached the fence.  
  
How had Callandra found the courage to ride this monster, I   
wondered. That sharp beak and those talons could have ripped her to   
pieces easily! Even with the fence between us, I was frightened. At   
least Hagrid did have the beast chained to a pole which was driven into   
the ground. I hoped that Hagrid had driven it in deep enough.  
  
I wanted to know where Hagrid was. And there was no other creature   
around for me to ask.  
  
Politeness, Hagrid had said. Respect. Those were the things that   
allowed one to speak to a hippogriff and keep one's skin intact. Staying   
safely on my own side of the fence, I bowed low.  
  
"Excuse me?" I said, as soon as I straightened up. "I'm looking   
for Hagrid. If you know where he's gotten himself off to, could you   
just give a nod in that direction? Please?"  
  
The hippogriff stared at me with a haughty expression.  
  
"I need to find him and the dog..." I said, my voice trailing off,   
nervously.   
  
The hippogriff was approaching me. To my horror, I realized that   
the chain was long enough to permit the monster to reach its giant   
eagle-head over the fence!  
  
Completely ignorant in the ways of hippogriffs, I still realized   
that the beast did not seem too happy with me. What had I done wrong?  
  
Too scared to run, I slid to the ground, meaning to stay out of   
the creature's reach. Hadn't I been respectful enough? Kneeling, I fell   
forward and pressed my forehead downwards against the grass.  
  
I stayed that way for a while before I dared to look up, very   
cautiously.  
  
This time, when I met the creature's fierce orange eyes, he bent   
his scaly knees and bowed!  
  
"Oh!" I said, very softly.  
  
"Please...?" I whispered, my throat very dry. "Where is Hagrid?"  
  
Leaning on the fence for support, I pulled myself up, trembling.   
My heart was pounding hard and my eyes never left those fiery orange   
orbs.  
  
"What are yeh waiting fer? Give him a pat!" Hagrid said, right   
behind me.  
  
Startled, I yelled and jumped what felt like a mile into the air.   
Finding the hippogriff horrifyingly close to me, I backpedaled   
frantically, tripped over my own feet and sat down, hard.   
  
I'd startled the hippogriff. He was tossing his head in alarm, and   
pulling at the chain with frightening strength.  
  
"Don't let him hurt me..." I cried, cowering behind Hagrid.  
  
"Sorry, Filch. Didn't mean to scare yeh! Look, yeh've startled him   
too, yeh jumpy git!"  
  
Taking the fence smoothly, Hagrid soothed the beast. "Easy, Beaky.   
It's alrig' boy. There's a good boy! Filch. Come here! He won't hurt   
yeh..."  
  
When I proved reluctant to move, Hagrid sighed. He leaped back   
over the fence, grabbed me and pulled me after him through the gate.  
  
"He likes yeh. He bowed, didn't he?" The big man's voice was   
exasperated.  
  
"He jus' got a bit offended when yeh spoke ter him out o' turn.   
Yeh should a' waited fer him ter bow, Filch. But then yeh made up fer   
that mistake with some real groveling! The two o'yeh were gettin on all   
righ'. Now, give him a pat."  
  
Not giving me a chance to balk, Hagrid took my hand in his huge   
one, moving it up to the hippogriff's beak.  
  
With those fierce orange eyes locked with mine, I gave the   
creature's beak a very cautious pat.  
  
"Beau'iful, isn't he?" Hagrid said, beaming. He clapped me on the   
shoulder and I staggered. My arm went around the hippogriff's neck for   
support.  
  
To my surprise, the creature didn't start tearing me to pieces   
with that beak. Maybe he did actually like me, I thought in a whirl of   
wonder and fear.  
  
The beast smelled delicately of strawberries, with a faint hint of   
orange or lemon.  
  
"Hagrid?" I said, "why does your hippogriff have a glamour on   
him?"  
  
"Er... long story..." the big man said, evasively.  
  
"Tell me... no, wait," I said. I looked past Hagrid and saw that   
Fang was resting alone in the shade next to the cabin.   
  
"What have you done with Snuffles?!" I cried.  
  
"Well, firs' we had a bit o' lunch. Then he fell asleep fer a   
while. After that we talked. Had some catching up t'do."  
  
Hagrid's voice softened. "Poor man. I only jus' found out that   
he's innocent. A few days before the party, it was. Dumbledore and Harry   
told me together. Took both of 'em ter convince me, too."  
  
"Anyhow, after we'd talked and had a pint or two, Snuffles said   
he'd best be getting back ter the Castle, so I took him there. That was   
a while ago. After that Fang and I went fer a walk in the Forest. We've   
only just gotten back."  
  
I relaxed. Silly me.   
  
Then I realized that I was still holding onto the hippogriff's   
neck. Hagrid grinned at me.   
  
"Yeh've gotten bolder, Filch. Never thought I'd ever see yeh try   
ter talk ter a hippogriff! Having Callie here is good fer yeh, as well   
as being good fer her. Would yeh like ter ride him, then?"  
  
The thought made me tremble. I backed away from the hippogriff.   
Just to be on the safe side, I bowed to him again, though.  
  
Hagrid was chuckling softly. I realized that he'd been teasing me.  
  
"So, did yeh have a nice visit with Minerva," he asked cheerfully.  
  
I nodded.  
  
He grinned.   
  
Annoyed, I glared at him. "What did Poppy say when you brought   
Snuffles back to her?" I asked.  
  
"He didn't want me ter take him all the way upstairs," Hagrid told   
me. "Said it'd be fine if I jus' brought him ter the entrance hall. He   
seemed ter be feeling a bit stronger, so that's what I did."  
  
"Are you telling me that you've left him alone for all this time?"   
I cried. I had a sinking feeling that Black, who was `feeling a bit   
stronger' had gone down to the dungeons.  
  
"I told you to keep him out of mischief!" I wailed.  
  
"Filch, yeh old git! Snuffles is barely more than an invalid!"  
  
We were talking about the only prisoner ever to escape from   
Azkaban! One quarter of the infamous Marauders!  
  
"Do you think a little thing like *that* would stop him?" I   
yelled.  
  
Afraid for Severus, I did what I should have done in the first   
place, if only I'd had enough sense. I summoned green-and-silver.  
  
Never mind trying to find Black. I'd deal with him later! Better   
see what I could do for his victim. Though it was probably already too   
late...  
  
"Take me to Professor Snape!" I said, and stepped into the Door.   
  
*******  
  
Of course I was too late.   
  
Green-and-silver brought me into the hallway outside Snape's   
classroom. I ran into the room to find it mercifully empty of students.   
The door to Severus's office was open. I could see that his office was a   
shambles.  
  
Severus was kneeling in the middle of the mess, sorting through   
his belongings. To my great relief, he did not appear to have been hurt.  
  
But the shelves behind his desk looked as if they'd been rattled   
by some sort of powerful explosion. His various jars and flasks were   
lying all over the floor. None of them were broken, and few had actually   
spilled. Severus is a firm believer in Unbreakable, Unspillable Charms.   
  
What was that sound I heard? Pleasant, cheerful humming? Was   
that... Severus?  
  
"Professor...?" I said, hesitantly. "Are you all right? What   
happened?"  
  
"Isn't it obvious, Filch?" Snape asked me, mildly. "That   
Gryffindor idiot happened."  
  
He resumed his jaunty humming as he worked at setting his office   
back to rights.  
  
"P-Professor...?" I asked, wide eyed, as I went to help him. "Why   
are you humming?"  
  
He must not have realized what he was doing. He clenched his jaws   
tightly shut.   
  
"Filch," he said, through gritted teeth, still in that same mild   
voice. "We've all been learning a great deal about what Squibs can do.   
Can you tell me exactly what sort of spell was used in here?"  
  
Staring at him with concern, I took a deep breath and "felt" for   
the traces of strong magic that still lingered in the air around us.  
  
"Er... it feels like a Cheering Charm, Professor. But I've never   
felt such a powerful one before."  
  
"Excellent. Aren't you a clever Squib. Yes, that Gryffindor lout   
has apparently managed to create one of the most potent Cheering Charms   
I've ever heard tell of. The effects may last for DAYS!!!"   
  
Severus spoke in that same mild voice, though he'd nearly managed   
a trace of a snarl on the last bit.  
  
As if to make up for the near-snarl, he went back to humming   
contentedly.  
  
"But it *will* wear off..." I said, trying to comfort him.   
"Eventually. At least you haven't been harmed."  
  
He was smiling, but his dark eyes were full of despair.   
  
"Not harmed, Filch? Why, I ought to be raging right now," he told   
me, gently. "I *want* to be raging. Instead, my mind is full of happy   
images of frolicking baby unicorns and pretty rainbows!"  
  
I shuddered in sympathy.  
  
"Dreadful, isn't it?" He said, still smiling. "I would rather be   
imagining an extremely large, very shaggy black pelt hung up on my wall.   
Or perhaps he'd make a better throw rug. Just the thing for in front of   
my fire."  
  
"It could be worse..." I offered weakly.  
  
Severus wanted to glare at me. I could tell how hard the poor man   
was trying. But he couldn't quite manage it.  
  
I sighed, feeling dreadfully sorry for him.   
  
Then I reached down to pick up one of his jars and something sharp   
jabbed my hand.  
  
"Ow!" I yelped.  
  
There was a porcupine quill stuck in my thumb! I noticed that   
there were a number of those quills scattered on the floor among the   
bottles and jars.  
  
I yanked the long, sharp thing out of my thumb and winced.  
  
"I thought you weren't using this protective Curse any more..." I   
said, around a mouthful of sore thumb.  
  
"Am I to leave my personal belongings unprotected?" Severus asked,   
gently. "I only removed my Curse of the Quills because I regretted   
harming you. Once Flitwick had perfected his Unreachable Charm I knew   
that you no longer had a reason to come into my office without   
permission. So I put the Curse back."  
  
"That flea-bitten fool got what he deserved," he continued,   
mildly. "But I am unable to even enjoy a proper gloat! Instead, I am   
glad simply because the sun is shining and the birds are singing!"   
Snape's dark eyes were full of desperation.  
  
"It's enough to drive me mad..." Severus murmured.  
  
"I-I'd better go and check on Snuffles..." I said, nervously.  
  
"Yes, Filch. Why don't you do that? And please, give that lout a   
message. Tell that ...Gryffindor that a few quills puncturing his   
miserable hide are only just the beginning of my revenge." Snape said.   
  
His voice may have been gentle, but the look in his eyes was   
definitely not.   
  
And then Severus started humming again.  
  
*******  
  
"Take me to Sirius Black..." I told green-and-silver.   
  
As sorry as I felt for poor happy Severus, I could not help   
feeling sorry for the Animagus too. I knew how terribly those quills   
hurt.  
  
I was relieved when I stepped through the tapestry into the back   
ward of the hospital wing. At least Black had been able to make it here   
to have his wounds tended properly.  
  
Poppy pounced the moment she saw me.  
  
"Argus! What were you thinking!" She said, furiously. "I spent   
half an hour digging quills out of his poor nose!!"  
  
Black, in his dog form, lay sprawled on his bed. His pale eyes   
were looking at me, mournfully, over a large poultice resting on his   
swollen muzzle.  
  
"You said that you'd keep him out of trouble. How could you let   
him run off and stick his nose into some dangerous creature's den?"   
Poppy demanded.  
  
"I-I'm sorry..." I said, admiring her instinctive grasp of the   
situation.   
  
"It wasn't all my fault!" I protested. "It's true that I should   
have kept a better eye on him, but he should have known enough to stay   
away from ...certain places."  
  
Poppy snorted angrily as she collected her ointments.   
  
"You may visit with him for a little while," she said sternly.   
"Let me have a look at your arm and hand before you go," she added as a   
parting shot, as she left the room.  
  
As soon as we were alone the Animagus shifted back to his human   
form.  
  
A bit woozy with pain-killing potion, Sirius sat up. He was   
holding the poultice gingerly against his puffy nose. His jaw had also   
clearly taken a lot of quill-damage. It was red, swollen and looked   
painful.  
  
"Thank you, Filch," the Animagus said in a muffled voice. "For not   
telling her how this happened."  
  
"I was thinking of Potter, not you. It's not fair to punish the   
boy because his godfather is an idiot. Poppy wouldn't let you have   
visitors if she knew what you'd done to Severus!"  
  
"Well, you did say that Snape had given all the fifth year   
Gryffindors detention because he was sore and cranky. So, I decided that   
he really needed a bit of cheering up..."  
  
Black smiled. Then he winced in pain and rubbed his jaw. "How is   
my favorite greasy git, anyhow?"   
  
"How do you think he is? Helplessly cheerful. And he really wants   
your hide for a throw rug."  
  
"Worth it..." Black's voice was even more muffled as he tried to   
hold the poultice so it covered both his nose and his jaw. "It's better   
than him being angry with Harry and the others. Let Snape pick on   
someone his own size for a change..."  
  
I sighed. I'd been worried about what Sirius was going to do to   
Severus, and now I was equally worried about what Severus might do to   
Sirius!   
  
Merlin's Beard. Not a prank war! Both of them were old enough to   
know better and had far more important concerns! I had to stop this   
somehow, before it got any worse.  
  
END OF CHAPTER FIVE:  
*******  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes  
  
Blue Moon: Thank you!! You anticipated what Filch decided to do about   
the rare kitten!! One of the Creeveys will get to take him. "Tell your   
parents that they don't have to have a Muggle vet cut anything off this   
one! He's already sterile!"  
  
Raven: Thank you!! I am very seriously considering giving Snape a   
kitten. The idea is just too cute to resist.  
  
UnrepentantReader: Thank you!!  
  
RowanRhys: Thank you!!  
  
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!! (I hope your hands are better!) Filch   
definitely feels a kinship with Callandra. She's the only other Squib   
he's ever been aware of meeting. She's so much younger, he can't help   
but feel protective.  
  
Jodel: Thank you!! Black and ginger males are rare? I didn't know   
that... I based that kitten's coloring on a stray I've seen. (It's such   
a beautiful cat. A female, I guess.) Filch thinks that the little   
infertile tom might be a logical choice for either Colin or Dennis.   
  
Melodie: Thank you!! Sirius couldn't wait until he was healed before he   
started pranking Severus. (When you're already recuperating from   
multiple injuries, what do a few more matter?) Severus has already   
gotten Sirius back but he wants to do more, unless Argus can stop him.  
  
Miche: Thank you!! Sirius doesn't think he did anything evil to Severus.   
He just cheered him up. Filch agrees with your assessment of their   
pranks. He thinks that they should just grow up and start setting a good   
example for the younger wizards who look up to them.  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! I did have an idea for a short story about   
Filch's early days at the Castle. Maybe I'll write it eventually, though   
it's kind of sad. I think poor Filch kept himself hidden as much as he   
could in his early years there because he was afraid of almost everyone   
and everything at Hogwarts. The "witch-brats and wizard-brats," the   
Headmaster and the Professors who seemed like luminous, unapproachable   
beings, his own "master" Pringle the caretaker, huge young Hagrid and   
Gamekeeper Ogg, even the house-elves. And the Castle itself, which was   
so big and confusing that he thought he'd never learn to find his way   
around it.  
  
Filch will eventually tell Callandra a little bit about his past, when   
she reveals yet another magical talent that Squibs have.  
  
The first moment that Sirius was unsupervised, and feeling up to it, he   
took his chance and pulled a prank on Severus.  
  
Yes, Callandra is going to miss Snape's strawberry-scent.  
  
Demeter: Thank you!! But Sirius doesn't want to hurt Severus. He just   
wants to make him into a happier person. And now Severus wants to make   
Sirius into a throw rug. (Severus doesn't even care about all the quill-  
punctures, they just add character.)  
  
Oh, no... if Draco and Harry are never going to team up that makes me   
scared for poor Draco too. I really want him to choose the Light!  
  
WG: Thank you!! The idea of Snape with a Slytherin-kitten just makes me   
go "awww!"   
  
YES!! I haven't really covered the mechanics of a Squib's abilities, but   
you've hit the nail precisely on the head. It's rather like a deaf   
person's ability at lip-reading, or a blind person's acute hearing.   
People who are not deaf or blind could presumably learn how to do those   
things but it's harder for them, because they have more "distractions"   
that they must learn to ignore.  
  
A proper witch or wizard has a great deal of interference from their own   
strong magic. It drowns out all the subtle cues that Squibs can feel   
very plainly.  
  
With training, very disciplined witches and wizards can learn to ignore   
all their internal magical interference and do what Squibs do. Minerva   
has learned how to "feel" for Transfigured objects. This is how she was   
able to find Callandra when she was a stone, hidden under some leaves.  
  
Serb: Thank you!! Snape is back in this chapter. I'm not planning to   
write about Severus's past because I'm hopeful that Rowling will   
eventually let us know a lot more about him, and I want to try to stay   
as close to canon as I possibly can. I doubt if Rowling will write much   
about Filch's past, so I consider him fair game.   
  
Larania: Thank you!! Oh no! Not... the SPORK!!! Yes, Harry would be able   
to understand the things that Filch went through, better than most. I   
tend to think that there's not a lot of understanding for what Squibs   
have to go through in the Wizarding world among the "regular" witches   
and wizards.   
  
Grindelwald is the name of the Dark wizard who was defeated by   
Dumbledore in 1945. (The information is on the back of the card inside   
the Chocolate Frog package that Harry gets on the train in the first   
book.)  
  
Gramarye: Thank you!! Yes, Neville is looking forward to showing   
Callandra the Greenhouses. The Greenhouses are quite romantic... and of   
course they can study Herbology there too.  
  
Charms won't be impossible for Callandra, Flitwick can teach her how to   
recognize Charms by "scent." Flitwick is as disciplined in his own area   
of expertise as Minerva is in Transfiguration. He knows how to tell many   
Charms by "scent." (It's not actually "scent," but some magical sense   
that Muggles don't have.)  
  
Sirius and Severus have started their prank war. Filch is determined to   
finish it before it escalates any further.  
  
Elspeth: Thank you!! It's safe to say that most of Hogwarts will know   
about Filch and Minerva before they do.  
  
Sirius didn't do anything mean... really. Severus doesn't agree. "Baby   
Unicorns! Get Out Of My MIND!!!"  
  
Yes, the hippogriff is Buckbeak, who arrived with Sirius and is enjoying   
a visit with Hagrid.  
  
Jelsemium: Thank you!! Yes, Hagrid did carry Snuffles up to the Castle.   
Which left the Animagus with enough strength to trot down to the   
dungeons, sneak into Severus's office, defeat several protective Curses   
and leave a powerful Cheering Charm to ambush Severus, before the Curse   
of the Quills finally got the poor Animagus in his sensitive doggy nose. 


	6. Responsibility and Honor

A Squib's Proper Place  
A Harry Potter fan-fic  
By Ozma  
A sequel to "To Save A Squib"  
Chapter 6: Responsibility and Honor  
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling  
  
  
  
I did not have to tell Sirius Black that he had far more important things to worry about than a   
prank war with Severus Snape. One look at the anxious face of his godson made that point very well.  
  
It was only a matter of time before Harry found out about Snuffles' painful encounter with the   
porcupine quills. The huge black dog's limping progress through the Castle corridors had not gone   
unnoticed.   
  
Concerned students had seen the wounded dog attempting to make his way up the main staircase.   
The Animagus had attracted a group of worried onlookers. Among them were Fred and George Weasley.   
The twins had used a levitation charm to bring the injured animal to Poppy as quickly as possible.  
  
Some members of the Weasley family knew that Snuffles was really Sirius Black. The twins did   
not seem to be among those who were in on the secret. However, everyone was aware that Harry Potter   
was especially fond of the big, black "stray." Once they'd completed their mission of mercy, Fred and   
George had gone to find Harry.  
  
Groggily, Sirius had resumed his dog form before the pain-killing potion could put him to sleep.   
He was barely awake when Harry came into the ward to see him, accompanied by the twins and Ginny, as   
well as Ron and Hermione.  
  
The sight of the huge black dog's bandaged, swollen muzzle clearly upset the boy. The Animagus   
had already been badly hurt and this additional injury had complicated and delayed his recovery.   
  
"Snuffles…" Harry said, concerned. "What have you been up to? You should have been more   
careful. Those quills could have hit your eyes!"  
  
Harry didn't say any more, just stroked the dog's back gently. His green eyes were shadowed and   
anxious. Harry had already come very close to losing Sirius. He'd witnessed the Dark Lord's brutal attack   
against the Animagus less than a week earlier, in a nightmarish vision. After Minerva had rescued Black,   
Potter had barely left his side until Poppy had said that Sirius was out of danger.  
  
No one who knew Potter's mysterious Muggle relations appeared to think very much of them. It   
was obvious how much the boy cared for Sirius and needed him.  
  
The battered Animagus rested his head against his godson's knee as he fell asleep. He   
whimpered softly, an apology without words. Harry knew and understood that the wounds Black had   
sustained during his rescue of Callandra had been for a good cause. But, Black's snout-full of quills had   
been the result of a foolish prank!  
  
"That's right…" I thought, annoyed with Black. "You have responsibilities! You should be   
thinking of the boy, not behaving like a child and giving him another reason to worry about you!"  
  
Harry had not even told Black that it was Snape who had given the Gryffindors detention. The   
Boy Who Had More Sense Than A Pair Of Grown Wizards I Could Name hadn't wanted to stir up   
trouble.   
  
When Harry eventually found out the whole story behind what had happened, I hoped that he   
would give Sirius a proper telling off.  
  
Once Sirius was asleep, Poppy shooed the children out of the ward. She did not even let   
Hermione or Ginny question me about the kittens, though the girls were clearly eager to do so.  
  
"Mr. Filch is my patient too. He's supposed to be resting today. I'm going to have a look at his   
hand now. Don't bother him!"  
  
She did, however, reassure Harry that "Snuffles" would heal, eventually, from this newest injury   
too. As long as he was carefully watched, and not allowed to do anything else foolish.  
  
*******  
  
After Poppy had checked my arm and hand, and sentenced me to another day of rest, despite my   
protests, I was allowed to leave the hospital wing. I summoned green-and-silver and went to look in on   
Mrs. Norris and her kittens.   
  
The eight kittens were nestled against their mother, sleeping with the same single-minded   
intensity that they used when they nursed.   
  
Mrs. Norris blinked sleepily at me when I stroked her head. I missed having her at my side. She   
would belong to her kittens for the next few weeks. Still, she listened to me patiently when I told her about   
Black and Snape.  
  
"Some things never change…" I told her, sighing. "The two of them are worse than children!   
I've got to nip this in the bud somehow. Potter might be able to keep Black in line..."  
  
(The irony in those words wasn't apparent until I'd already said them. The task of keeping Black   
in line had been passed to a new Potter. Somehow, I didn't think that was what Harry's parents had in   
mind.)  
  
"What can I do about Severus?" I muttered.  
  
Mrs. Norris's golden eyes blinked at me, inscrutably. My cat nuzzled one of her small, grey   
daughters affectionately, reminding me that she had her own brood to take care of now. The children of   
Hogwarts, past and present, were mine to deal with.  
  
"Well, my sweet," I said, "I've already befriended a hippogriff today. What's one more   
impossible job on my list?"  
  
Thinking matters over, I refilled her food and water. Then I stepped through green-and-silver   
again. Emerging into the dungeon corridor outside Severus's classroom, I went to speak to the Potions   
Master.  
  
*******  
  
Snape had managed to get through his last class, somehow. He was managing to resist the effects   
of the Cheering Charm to the point where he was no longer humming merrily. But he was moving about   
his office with a happy efficiency that could only be described as "bustling."  
  
"Ah, Filch!" he said, beaming. "How is that reprehensible flea-feast doing? Please tell me that   
he's in agony."  
  
"He is," I said solemnly. I described Black's wounded face.  
  
A wicked glitter appeared in Severus's eyes that had nothing to do with the effects of the   
Cheering Charm.  
  
"Good," he purred, silkily. "That's some consolation, at least. Those quill wounds of yours were   
painful, weren't they? You limped around for quite a while. Couldn't sit down for a week?"  
  
I nodded, ruefully.  
  
"Then Black should be in utter misery for at least that long. Serves him right."  
  
"I'd say that you're the winner in this round, Professor. The Cheering Charm isn't going to last   
for a week." I pointed out.  
  
"Even if it wore off this very second, it has already lasted for an eternity, Filch…" Snape said,   
the smile on his face at odds with the misery in his eyes. "Do you know what I was doing during my class   
with the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years? I was *whistling!*"  
  
I sighed. "Charms can be removed, you know. Or counteracted. I'd imagine that Professor   
Flitwick would be more than up to the task."  
  
Severus shook his head, smiling gently. "No. I'd rather handle this myself. Perhaps, a potion…"   
  
His eyes glittered wickedly again. "Ah, yes! I can see several possibilities. Why, I could be my   
usual self again by dinner! Wouldn't that be one in the eye for Black?"   
  
He laughed, merrily, then clapped his hands over his mouth in horror. Then, rubbing his hands   
together, he grinned. The grin had, perhaps, a touch more wickedness in it than Charm-induced cheer.   
  
"The face-full of quills I gave Black, and my own potion to counteract his Cheering Charm will   
do for a start on my revenge, I suppose."  
  
"It will also do for a finish!" I pointed out. "Why don't you just let it go?"  
  
"Let it go?" Snape's voice was mild, but his eyes flashed. "Who are *you* to tell me…"  
  
"Just a Squib. With a great many empty file drawers in my office."   
  
It took him a moment to realize what I meant. Then, his dark eyes narrowed.  
  
"Filch," Severus said, smiling gently. "You couldn't possibly understand…"  
  
"Many years of hoarding grudges, indignities and slights and insults?" I said, in a voice as gentle   
and mild as his.   
  
"I beg to differ, Professor. I understand those things very well indeed."  
  
"There is no comparison…" Snape said, softly, still with a slight smile on his face.  
  
"None at all," I agreed. "I'm an old man with no proper magic, who mops floors. You are a   
powerful wizard, a Master of your Art. Letting things go should be much easier for you."  
  
His eyes, desperately angry, despite his smile, were locked on mine.  
  
"You don't know all the things that Black, and those friends of his have done. This is only the   
latest in a long line of..."  
  
"You forgave me when I nearly killed you," I said. "Did they ever do anything as bad as that?"  
  
Snape began to laugh, helplessly.   
  
It was not a cheerful sound, despite the powerful Charm.  
  
"Ah. Filch. You have no idea…" he gasped, wretchedly, "you don't know..."   
  
Severus wrapped his arms around himself, trembling, his face a mask of forced joy and very real   
anguish.   
  
His laughter sounded more like desperate sobs.  
  
"…what you are asking of me."  
  
Snape was trembling hard, too distracted to maintain his glamour. His tormented expression was   
even more frightening on his poor bruised face.   
  
The terrible, sobbing laughter subsided. The Potions Master buried his face in his hands.  
  
"Leave me alone, Filch…" he whispered.  
  
I didn't. At least not yet.  
  
Instead I put my hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Professor," I said. "You are one of the most honorable men that I have ever known. And you do   
whatever must be done, even when it is very painful. You and Black can work together when the reasons   
are good enough. You are both servants of the Light. The Headmaster needs both of you. And your   
children need you."  
  
I sighed. "Do you really wish to waste your precious time and energy on childish revenge? You   
can let this go. I know you can."  
  
*******  
  
Not sure if I'd succeeded or not, I left him pondering ingredients for an anti-Cheering potion. I   
didn't use a Door when I left the dungeons. The walk through the Castle would do me good.  
  
Poppy had ordered me to spend today relaxing. But, except for the time I'd spent with Minerva, I   
hadn't been following her orders very well.  
  
I was walking slowly up the main staircase when I was ambushed by Ginny and Hermione.  
  
"Eight kittens!!" Hermione said, quite excited.   
  
"Three queens, five toms." I said. "Two of the toms look just like Crookshanks. Mother and   
kittens are doing fine. I've been looking in on them on and off, all day."   
  
"Were you able to write everything down? With your hand, and all?" Hermione asked me   
anxiously.  
  
I nodded. "My writing's a bit messy. If you like, you may copy it over neater."  
  
The small ledger that Hermione had given me was in my pocket. I handed it to her and watched   
her read.  
  
"It must have hurt, writing this down," she said, sympathetically. "I'll copy it over, and you can   
tell me some more details!"  
  
The two girls and I went out and sat on the front steps of the Castle. Hermione dug a quill out of   
her bag and prepared to write. The births of Mrs. Norris's kittens were relived, for a very interested   
audience.  
  
Ginny, who everyone knew was Mrs. Norris's favorite, and would be allowed to pick a kitten   
first, was wondering if it would be more fun to have a queen or a tom.  
  
"It would be nice to have a little grey Miss Norris..." she said, thoughtfully. "But there are only   
three. Lil and Henna Morgan both really wanted queens. Did anyone else say that they'd definitely prefer   
a queen?"  
  
Trust Ginny to be considering other people's wishes, even when she had first choice.  
  
"No one else has asked for a queen. Hannah wanted a tom. Dennis and Colin didn't care which   
they got, as long as they're two of the same. The third queen is yours, Ginny."  
  
She grinned. "How does `Nimue Norris' sound? Or maybe something Classical? Andromache   
Norris? Ariadne Norris? Hmm. Gerda Norris? Skadi Norris?"  
  
"Those last two are Norse, aren't they?" Hermione murmured, nibbling thoughtfully on her quill.  
  
"Norse is all right, too." Ginny said. "Freyja Norris? Idunn Norris? Sigyn Norris?"  
  
"Why not Egyptian?" Hermione suggested. "Bast Norris? Isis Norris?"  
  
"Bast is rather appropriate..." Ginny murmured. "I'll think about that one."  
  
I relaxed for a while, listening to them discussing names. Leaning back against the step above me   
I flexed my right hand cautiously. It hurt. Still, maybe if I rested enough before dinner, Poppy would   
relent and let me go back to work tomorrow. This "relaxing" business could get very strenuous.  
  
It was nearly dinner time, when Colin and Dennis came rushing out of the Castle.  
  
"We heard from Lil Morgan that Mrs. Norris had five little toms!!!" Dennis cried. " Colin and I   
will have toms then!! I'm going to call mine Paladin!"  
  
"Mine's going to be Pellinore," Colin said. He gave me a beseeching look. "Must we wait two   
weeks before we can see them?"  
  
"Two weeks..." I said. "You can't play with them yet. All they're capable of at the moment is   
sleeping and eating."  
  
Dennis and Colin looked like they still had other news to impart. Both small Creeveys seemed to   
be fairly bursting.  
  
"What is it?" Hermione asked them.  
  
"You'd all better come in," Colin said, hopping around in excitement. "Haven't you heard yet?   
Callie's going to be Sorted before dinner!"  
  
END OF CHAPTER SIX  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
A few stories back, (after "Squib Wizard,") one reviewer asked when Snape would have a chance to   
respond to the gauntlet that Filch had thrown down, when the caretaker forgave the "brats" and burned   
many years worth of his own grudges.   
  
I looked through my reviews, but I couldn't find the review I'm thinking of. But, whoever you are, thank   
you! You helped this chapter take shape.   
  
Melodie: Thank you!! A "friendly" prank war can be fun. But a prank war between Sirius and Severus   
would not be "friendly." It would rapidly become ugly and dangerous, as well as disruptive to the whole   
school. Both Black and Snape are grown men who should know better.  
  
RowanRhys: Thank you!!! Those pretty, pastel unicorns from Fantasia are the ones I had in mind! Yes,   
Sirius didn't intend his prank to be "mean." Sirius actually thought that he was being mature and   
restrained about it. Severus, of course, viewed it as an act of violation.   
  
Filch agrees that someone ought to take a rolled-up newspaper to the poor pup's already aching nose.  
  
Elspeth: Thank you!! Yes, with Voldemort risen, Death Eaters about, a Minister who is living in a state of   
denial, and much of the wizarding world living in fear the very *last* thing that Hogwarts needs is a   
practical joke war, between an ex-convict and a former Death Eater. (It would not be a light-hearted   
distraction, it would be all out war.)  
  
Sirius managed to avoid the quills almost until he was ready to leave.   
  
Severus is trying very hard to create a Depressing Potion. He's already taught one class under the   
influence of the Cheering Charm, and he doesn't want to do that again.  
  
The destruction in Snape's office was caused by a combination of the protective curses, and Sirius   
avoiding the protective curses.  
  
Emma: Thank you!!  
  
Blue Moon: Thank you!!  
  
Danalas the lady Chaos: Thank you!! Filch did his best to try and stop the prank war while both Snape   
and Sirius could both feel like they'd won.  
  
Larania: Thank you!! Filch and Callandra will both be learning from each other.  
  
Tina: Thank you!! Severus is working on a potion to corral the baby unicorns and dim the rainbows.  
  
Gramarye: Thank you!! Severus is hoping to mute the effects of the Cheering Charm to the point where he   
merely doesn't seem as harsh as usual. He knows that he won't be good for anything if he's skipping   
about giddily strewing flower petals everywhere.  
  
Lataradk: Thank you!! Yes, a Snape who is forced to be happy is even more dangerous than a Snape   
who's his usual self. Your image of the baby unicorns trying to escape from Snape's mind made me laugh.  
  
Filch is determined to put a stopper on the war. It's part of what he tries to do. (When looked at from the   
students' point of view, the caretaker seems determined to stop their fun, but Filch thinks of it as stopping   
trouble.)  
  
Filch and Minerva are fun. Neither one realizes what's going on yet. Filch and Mrs. Norris would give   
Minerva a kitten if she asked, but she hasn't.  
  
Yes, Filch would have been absolutely terrified if he knew that "Beaky" was the infamous hippogriff who   
had "mauled" a student.   
  
Jelsemium: Thank you!! I've always liked Hagrid a great deal. He's a unique combination of shrewdness   
and innocence.  
  
Both Sirius and Severus can feel like they've won. Black's face will still be swollen and sore when Snape   
is back to his old self. Snape thinks that Sirius minds the quills much more than he actually does.   
  
(The damage to Black's face pleases Snape. He's always thought that handsome Black was conceited   
about his looks. He doesn't realize that twelve years in Azkaban has knocked all the youthful vanity right   
out of poor Sirius. Poor Severus is actually quite insecure about his own appearance, which feeds his   
jealousy of the Animagus.)  
  
Callandra's Sorting will be in the next chapter.  
  
Quoth the Raven: Thank you!! "Snape, why are you humming the theme to the Smurfs?" Oh, did that   
make me LAUGH!!  
  
Yes, Filch does feel sad that no one ever gave him the chance that Callandra is getting. But he also   
knows, that Callandra is getting her chance, partly because of him. Before he came to the Castle Squibs   
weren't even allowed in to clean the toilets.  
  
Yes, Hagrid is very perceptive! (It bothers me to see him often portrayed in fan stories as slow-witted.)  
  
The three "Miss Norrises" are already spoken for, but the black tom-kitten is going to insist on Snape for   
his "pet wizard."  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Hanging a hippo? (Sorry, I had to ask ;-) ) Prank wars can be fun, as long as   
the participants keep things friendly. Severus and Sirius would have a Prank Apocalypse.  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione saw Minerva holding Filch's hand while he slept in the hospital wing. Harry   
was distracted by his worry for Sirius, and Ron may not have thought anything about it, since most   
teenagers don't seem aware of the love-lives of people who are so much older than they are. But Hermione   
definitely picked up on it.  
  
Fluffy duckies!!! Oh, that's great!!! I wish I'd thought of fluffy duckies!!  
  
Odyssey: Thank you!!  
  
UnrepentantReader: Thank you!! Buckbeak will be around until Sirius is well enough to travel. At the   
rate Sirius is healing, it may take a while.  
  
Besnaped: Thank you!! You have many good ideas. The pranks were meant to be a stop along the way,   
not the story's destination. Snape is going to be the little black tom's pet wizard. He just doesn't know it   
yet.  
  
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!! Snape is working on a potion that will tone down the Cheering Charm, until   
the effects are muted. (He will still seem happier than usual, but he won't be giddy.) The Charm affects   
only Severus, since he was the one it "hit." The students who come in to his classroom won't be affected   
by it at all. 


	7. The Sorting

A Squib's Proper Place  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma  
A sequel to "To Save A Squib"  
Chapter 7: The Sorting  
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling  
  
  
  
When I walked into the Great Hall, between Ginny and Hermione, I   
was trembling. Dennis and Colin Creevey had rushed ahead of us to find   
their seats, but the girls matched my slower pace. They were aware of my   
anxiety.  
  
"B-but will the Hat be able to find a House for Callandra?" I   
asked them. "What if Squibs are invisible or immune to the Hat's magic?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "The Hat doesn't have that type of spell   
on it," she said, sounding sure of herself.   
  
"Did you read that somewhere?" I asked her.  
  
"No," Hermione said. "But it stands to reason, doesn't it? The   
Hat's purpose isn't to find the students. That's a different spell   
entirely. The Hat's task is to Sort them once they're already here!"  
  
Ginny patted my hand.  
  
"Don't worry, Mr. Filch," she said. "You know that the Headmaster   
wouldn't let Callie put the Hat on unless he was sure that it would be   
able to find the right House for her."  
  
Hermione had appealed to my sense of logic and Ginny, to my faith   
in Dumbledore. I tried to feel reassured, but my heart was pounding   
dreadfully.  
  
Squibs don't get Sorted. Everyone knew that. Squibs aren't   
*proper* wizards.  
  
("Know your place, boy." "Keep your head low.")  
  
The girls were both looking at me with concern. I suppose that I   
must have been pale. But I told them I was fine, and they left me to   
find places at the Gryffindor table.  
  
Longing for the comfort of Mrs. Norris's familiar weight on my   
shoulder, or in my arms, I walked slowly towards the Staff Table.  
  
Severus Snape's place was empty. I wondered how he was coming   
along with his anti-Cheering Potion. The other Professors were all   
present and accounted for.  
  
Smiling, Minerva rose from her chair and came towards me.  
  
"It will be all right, Argus," she said. "Callandra doesn't look   
worried. See?"  
  
Callandra Moffitt, who stood beside the Headmaster in front of the   
Staff table, looked excited and happy.   
  
She was now clad in a black Hogwarts robe, her many long, beaded   
braids streaming down onto her shoulders. I was sure that the poor child   
must be nervous. She was just hiding it extremely well. At the moment,   
she was exchanging an affectionate glance with Neville Longbottom, who   
was watching her proudly from the Gryffindor table.  
  
Then I saw her look over at her brother, Daniel, at the Ravenclaw   
table. Callandra may not have looked nervous, but poor Daniel looked   
like I felt. He was probably anxious enough for both of them.  
  
Callandra grinned at Daniel, to reassure him.  
  
The Headmaster gestured for silence, and the sounds of   
conversation in the Hall grew still.  
  
"Today," he said, simply, "Hogwarts is pleased to welcome a new   
student. Callandra Moffitt."  
  
Dumbledore gave Callandra a kind smile which she returned, shyly.  
  
Hagrid rose from his place. The Sorting Hat was in one of his huge   
hands, and a four legged stool was clutched in the other. The big man   
gave first the stool, then the Hat, to Dumbledore.  
  
The candlelight glittered on Dumbledore's silvery hair and beard   
as he placed the stool on the floor in front of him. Then he put the Hat   
on the stool.  
  
Murmurs filled the Hall like the whispering of the wind through   
tree branches. I doubted that there was anyone present; student,   
Professor or ghost, who did not know that Callandra was a Squib.  
  
I knew that I wasn't the only one who was wondering what the Hat   
was going to do.  
  
The rip near the Hat's brim opened, and the whispers died away.   
  
The Hat sang:  
  
"Rare among the Wizard-born, seldom revealed,  
From both Light and Dark, ever well concealed,  
  
But the Sorting Hat can see what is deep within.  
I know the magic flows through your bones and skin.  
  
So, no need to feel an ounce of dread,  
When you place me upon your head.  
  
Inside your heart, true magic calls.  
Your House is here, within these walls.  
  
Be you Patient, Ambitious, Brave or Wise,  
Your proper place, I shall recognize."  
  
The murmurs were louder now, and I heard some exclamations of   
surprise too.   
  
I found myself blinded by tears. My relief for Callandra's sake   
was accompanied by a painful aching in my heart.   
  
Hermione and Ginny had been right. The Hat had a song for   
Callandra. She would have a House, just like any other student.  
  
Would it have sung for me, so many years ago?   
  
I would never know. Tears of joy and sorrow mingled on my face.  
  
Minerva, Merlin bless her, seemed to understand my tangle of   
emotions. Her hand found mine and held on gently.  
  
Thus fortified, I shook my tears away. I wanted to watch Callandra   
being Sorted.  
  
She was now seated on the stool. Dumbledore placed the Hat on her   
head.  
  
With the benefit of hindsight, I could see that the Hat's choice   
was clear and simple. Many people, including me, had already found   
reason to notice Callandra's bravery.  
  
The Hat shouted:   
  
"GRYFFINDOR!!!"  
  
The Gryffindor table's wild cheering and clapping exploded   
jubilantly into the silence. Neville Longbottom jumped to his feet and   
held out his hand to Callandra, his round face glowing with delight.  
  
With her head held high, Callandra went to him, and to their   
housemates. She moved gracefully, straight and proud.  
  
I wanted this for Callandra with all my heart. She had a place at   
Hogwarts, a place in the Wizarding world that was far better than my   
own.   
  
Smiling, I clapped my callused, work roughened hands for her until   
they ached.  
  
*******  
  
"Professor, you missed dinner. And the Sorting! Callandra's a   
Gryffindor!" I said.  
  
Severus did not seem surprised.  
  
"Yes, I expected as much," the Potions Master murmured, matter of   
factly. A faint smile still lingered on his face, but he seemed more   
adept at fighting the effects of Black's Cheering Charm now.  
  
Professor Snape leaned over his cauldron. He added a careful pinch   
of something black, sharp smelling and crumbly to the bubbling mixture.  
  
"You mean that it was obvious to you all along?" I asked him.  
  
"Yes, Filch. The matter of young Callandra's House was quite   
plain. It is also very clear to me where the Hat would have put you, if   
Dippet had been as open-minded as Dumbledore."  
  
I stared at him, wide eyed. "W-where do you think the Hat would   
have put me, Professor?"  
  
"Hufflepuff, Filch!" Severus said. "Did you think that I was going   
to say `Slytherin?'" He laughed then stopped abruptly.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward again and inhaled the   
acrid vapors rising from the dark, frothy mixture in the cauldron.  
  
His expression, when he looked over at me a few moments later, was   
nearly as dour as usual.  
  
"Hufflepuff...?" I said softly.  
  
"Of course. It's plain as the nose on your face. You're hard   
working, loyal, patient. Rather slow on the uptake..."  
  
"My father was a Hufflepuff. He would have been so proud of me."   
My voice was wistful.  
  
Severus sighed. Slytherins sometimes get that way whenever   
"Hufflepuff" and "proud" are used in the same sentence.  
  
"Well, Professor," I said. "your Depressing Potion does seem to be   
working."  
  
"Appearances can be deceiving, Filch. Believe me, I am continuing   
to fight the Charm's effects. My mind is still filled with persistent   
mindless good cheer! The potion needs to boil for a little longer."  
  
He added another pinch of the crumbly black stuff and leaned over   
to breathe the vapors.  
  
"You can help. Talk to me. Give me some unpleasant news."  
  
I thought for a moment.  
  
"Snuffles has a fever," I said.   
  
"That's NOT unpleasant news!" Severus growled.   
  
Then he sighed again. "Unless you are telling me that his fever is   
bad enough to be life-threatening? It wouldn't do for the mangy beast to   
expire before I have a chance to get my proper revenge."  
  
"No, he'll recover," I said, sharply. "But Potter left dinner soon   
after the Sorting to go upstairs to help Poppy with him. Most of his   
innards were being held together with healing spells even before he got   
hit with those quills. He's in considerable discomfort."   
  
"Don't glare at me like that, Filch!" Snape snarled. "I *heard*   
what you said to me, earlier. I cannot forgive him, but I do not intend   
to take my revenge on that creature any time soon. For your sake, I will   
simply add this latest indignity to his considerable account."   
  
"Someday," Severus continued, "there will be a proper reckoning   
between the two of us. I can wait. For years, if I must. Hufflepuffs are   
not the only ones who know how to be patient!"  
  
"Thank you, Professor," I said.  
  
He glared at me, while he continued to breathe the vapors over the   
cauldron.  
  
"You were right," Severus said, quietly. "I do have more pressing   
concerns than pranks and revenge. Did you happen to observe Draco at   
dinner this evening?"  
  
I nodded. Anxious over how Draco and his closest friends might   
react to Callandra's Sorting, I had spent a while watching the fifth   
year Slytherins. The boy had been even paler than usual, subdued and   
quiet. He'd spent much of dinner sitting with his head in his hands.   
Even the fact that a Squib had just been Sorted into Gryffindor had not   
seemed to penetrate Draco's distracted mood.   
  
"His father's condition is ...unchanged?" I asked.  
  
Severus nodded. "The Cruciatus is a powerful tool, Filch. The Dark   
Lord can wield it as no one else can. He knows how to take the Curse   
just far enough. He could have made Lucius's pain last for far longer   
than he did, without allowing his victim to escape into madness."  
  
He shuddered. Severus had been the Evil One's victim more than   
once. The terrible memories were plain in his haunted eyes.  
  
"Professor...?" I said, hesitantly, "Do you think that Lucius   
Malfoy might die? I-I know what you owe him. Twice over. He's a   
dangerous man. Perhaps it would be better if..."  
  
Snape frowned. "I know precisely what I owe him, Filch. That's my   
concern. Not yours."  
  
"Please..." I said, plaintively, "don't try to tell me that you've   
taken everything into account and the risks have been carefully   
calculated. I've already seen enough of your `calculated risks' to last   
me a lifetime."  
  
"Filch," Severus said, very softly. "I cannot be certain what   
Lucius will demand of me. But I do have my suspicions. I may not be   
asked to do anything for him that I would not do of my own free will."  
  
I shook my head at him in disbelief.  
  
"There are two lives that mean even more to Lucius than his own,"   
Severus said, quietly. "He may demand that I protect them in his place,   
if he should ever be unable to do so."  
  
"Protect them?" I murmured. "Or give your life to save them?"  
  
Severus stepped back from the cauldron.  
  
He did not answer me.  
  
"Professor...?" I asked.  
  
Severus took a deep breath. "My thanks, Filch," he said in an   
entirely different tone. "Our little talk certainly has kept me from   
feeling ridiculously happy. But the potion is ready now. I believe that   
I have kept you from your rest long enough."  
  
  
He saw the concern in my face, and acknowledged it with a wry   
look. But all he said to me was,  
  
"Good night."   
  
  
*******  
END OF CHAPTER SEVEN  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Jelsemium: Thank you!! You may not have signed in, but you still signed   
your name! I knew that it was you! Ginny's kitten is going to be "Bastet   
Norris," which will fit the regal little fluffball.  
  
But Severus wouldn't use the Depressing Potion on poor Harry... he   
prefers to depress the poor kid the old fashioned way.   
  
As you can see, you were absolutely right about what house Callandra   
would be Sorted into!!  
  
Lataradk: Thank you!! Oh, you lucky person!!! The DVD won't be available   
in the U.S. until next week!!!   
  
You're right. Bastet Norris sounds better!  
  
Elspeth: Thank you!! Gryffindor always seemed like the best choice for   
Callandra. The first Squib student at Hogwarts needs to be brave.  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Snape wasn't able to forgive Black, but he   
did agree to delay his revenge, because Filch asked.  
  
Awww, poor hippo. I hope that there wasn't any permanent damage done. It   
sounds like you went to an interesting school!  
  
Mystical Witch: Thank you!!  
  
UnrepentantReader: Thank you!!  
  
Ryven: Thank you!!  
  
Melodie: Thank you!! I would like to have Remus in a story. I do have   
story-fragment ideas with him, but nothing else has jelled yet. I also   
have fragments of ideas for confrontations with the Death Eaters. I'm   
waiting for these ideas to get more focused.  
  
Larania: Thank you!! Snape thinks that Sirius's Cheering Charms should   
be considered an Unforgivable Curse!  
  
Gramarye: Thank you!! Filch doesn't know about The Prank, and he doesn't   
know that Black actually DID once nearly kill Snape. He really did not   
understand what he was asking.  
  
On the other hand, Snape understood how hard it was for Filch to burn   
the contents of his cabinets, and he was moved that Filch did it as a   
punishment/form of apology to show Severus how sorry he was. So, Filch's   
appeal to Snape's honor didn't fall on deaf ears.  
  
Demeter: Thank you!! Yes, exactly. Sirius did not see the "dark side" of   
his powerful Cheering Charm. Snape's protective Curses are certainly a   
bit "overboard." Sirius can take consolation in the fact that anyone who   
broke into Snape's office would be turned into a pincushion.  
  
Besnaped: Thank you!!  
  
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!! Loved your images of the Prank Apocalypse!!  
  
Rabbit: Thank you!! And Thank you, to Jinx too!! Oooh, Alan Rickman   
performing Noel Coward... I am drooling with envy. Heck, I am just plain   
drooling.  
  
One of my sons was reading reviews over my shoulder. Snape's   
interpretive dance, "Spring Blossom" made him laugh out loud. 


	8. There's No Place Like Home

A Squib's Proper Place  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma  
a sequel to "To Save A Squib"  
Chapter 8: There's No Place Like Home  
  
  
  
  
Severus was kneeling on the floor in the corridor outside my   
office, trying to detach a five week old black kitten from the trailing   
end of his robe.  
  
"Ow! Azoth, you needle-clawed pestilence!! Filch, why does this   
accursed little creature insist on following me everywhere? Ouch! Stop   
that! My hand is NOT a cat-toy...!"  
  
"He likes you, Professor," I called to Snape, patiently, from the   
chair behind my desk. "You named him. He's yours. He doesn't want to   
belong to anyone else."  
  
Snape distracted the kitten by rubbing gently under the creature's   
tiny jaw. The black kitten's contented purr was loud enough to belong to   
a much larger cat.  
  
"The absurd little beast needed a name, didn't he?" Snape said,   
testily. "And I needed something to shout at him. He's a four-footed   
harbinger of chaos and destruction!"   
  
"Stop purring at me," he added sternly, glaring at the kitten.  
  
"Bring him in here, Professor," I said. "He must be hungry. The   
others have all eaten!"  
  
Professor Snape stared into my office. His expression was one of   
consternation.  
  
There was barely any room to walk. Children and animals seemed to   
be everywhere.  
  
Ginny, Hannah, Colin, Dennis, Lilith and Gehenna, all of whom   
spent as much time with their kittens as they could, were crowded into   
the room, either sitting on the floor or lounging against my file   
cabinets.  
  
Daniel Moffitt, who had been chosen by one of the ginger toms, was   
there as well.  
  
Hermione was sitting in my office's other chair. The ledger that   
she'd given was open on her lap. The kittens had now been started on   
solid food. Hermione had taken notes on how much each kitten had eaten.  
  
Both Mrs. Norris and Crookshanks were sitting at Hermione's feet,   
curled up together, purring softly. Hermione had succeeded in winning my   
cat's friendship.   
  
(The matter had been firmly clinched the first time that   
Crookshanks had been allowed to see his offspring. The large, ginger tom   
had acquired a decided swagger in his step as he'd inspected his brood.  
  
"Look at you... acting as if you did all the work." Hermione had   
sighed at him with affectionate exasperation. Mrs. Norris had   
immediately rubbed up against Hermione's ankles.)  
  
Harry and Ron, who had accompanied Hermione, were also sitting on   
the floor, in the corner nearest my desk.   
  
Snuffles, almost fully healed now from the terrible internal   
injuries he'd suffered at the Dark Lord's hands, was resting on the   
floor between the two boys.  
  
Having eaten their fill, seven of the kittens had been unable to   
resist the lure of such a large, warm, furry body. The Animagus had   
kittens stuck all over him like burrs.  
  
Ginny's smoky-grey Bastet, Lilith's dusty-grey Juno and Gehenna's   
misty-grey Beatrice were snuggled up together on the dog's back.  
  
Colin's black-and-ginger Pellinore, (who would never need Muggle-  
fixing because he was sterile, as I'd learned) rested between the dog's   
front paws.   
  
Dennis's stormy-grey Paladin, (who would have an unpleasant   
encounter with a Muggle vet someday unless the Creeveys could convince   
their parents that anti-kitten charms were as effective as Muggle-  
methods of feline birth control) seemed determined to win a wrestling   
match with Black's tail.  
  
Hannah Abbott's ginger-colored Briar was draped over the   
Animagus's head, batting at Black's ears. The other ginger tom; Daniel's   
Semyon, was nestled against Sirius's ribs.  
  
Frowning with disapproval, Severus picked his way carefully into   
the room, trying not to step on anyone or anything. When he caught sight   
of Sirius, he froze.  
  
"Mr. Creevey," he addressed Colin in his silkiest voice. "Do you,   
by any chance, have your camera with you?"  
  
"Yes, Professor."  
  
Snape nodded towards the Animagus-and-kittens tableau. "I believe   
that is a sight that really ought to be preserved for posterity."  
  
"Oh, you're right, sir!!" Lilith said, delighted. "What a CUTE   
picture!"  
  
"`Cute' is not exactly the word I had in mind, Miss Morgan," Snape   
said, dryly.  
  
"Adorable?" Gehenna suggested.  
  
"Sweet?" Hannah volunteered.  
  
"Precious?" Ginny asked, tongue in cheek. (She did not know who   
the dog really was, but she knew that Severus didn't seem fond of him.)  
  
"Blackmail!" Ron said, under his breath.  
  
"Or Revenge," Harry murmured back, quietly.  
  
Sirius sighed and rested his head (Briar and all) on Harry's knee.  
  
"That's perfect!!" Colin cried, camera in hand. "And I can fit you   
in too, Harry!"  
  
As nearly everyone started asking Colin for copies, Snape peeled   
the black kitten off the front of his robe.  
  
"There. Go and eat your dinner, Azoth, you little bile-black   
demon!" he murmured almost affectionately, setting the black kitten on   
the floor.  
  
Hermione opened the ledger to the page that she'd labeled "Azoth   
Norris" and got her quill ready as the black kitten trotted to the food   
bowl.  
  
"What does `Azoth' mean, anyhow," Ron asked, conversationally.  
  
Severus ignored the question, but Gehenna looked aghast that a   
fifth year wouldn't know such a thing, even if he was only a Gryffindor.  
  
"`Azoth' is an Arabic word for Mercury, regarded by Alchemists as   
the first principle of metals," Gehenna told him, very earnestly.  
  
"It's in our Potions book, Ron..." Hermione sighed, carefully   
watching the black kitten eat.  
  
"Ron's only teasing," Harry assured both Hermione and Gehenna. "He   
knew that."  
  
"Mr. Weasley only acquired that knowledge after he'd already   
gotten the answer wrong on a test..." Severus said, sneering.  
  
"Filch," he continued, still sneering. "Don't you have anything   
better to do than host a party in your office?"  
  
"I am doing paperwork, Professor." I told him.   
  
"In the midst of all this bedlam?" Severus looked incredulous.   
Then he regarded the Morgan sisters, sternly.  
  
"Lilith. Gehenna. Come. You are keeping Mr. Filch from his   
duties," the Professor said.   
  
Reluctant, but obedient, the Morgan sisters waved to everyone and   
carefully picked their way out of my office in Severus's wake.  
  
Just before leaving, Severus glowered around the room as if to say   
that certain students from Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw could   
all take a lesson from properly well-behaved Slytherins.  
  
*******  
  
It was approaching dinner time. Hannah and the Creevey brothers   
had asked Mrs. Norris if they could bring Briar, Paladin and Pellinore   
up to the Great Hall with them.  
  
Mrs. Norris had blinked her golden eyes at them regally, which the   
children took as an affirmative answer.  
  
Hannah, Dennis and Colin had all taken their kittens happily as   
they'd left for dinner.  
  
Daniel and Ginny immediately asked if they could do the same with   
Semyon and Bastet.  
  
"Don't worry," Hermione assured Mrs. Norris. "I'll make sure that   
they're all brought back to you!"  
  
"She will, too," Ron said, dryly.  
  
The rest of my guests were clearly preparing to go up to the Great   
Hall as well. Kittens were being carefully removed from Snuffles' fur so   
the dog could rise. Ron was holding onto Juno and Beatrice, trying to   
stop them from climbing up his robe. Harry was cuddling Azoth.   
  
(To judge by the concerned expression on Potter's face, I could   
tell that the boy thought poor Azoth wasn't going to get enough   
cuddling.)  
  
Despite what Severus had thought, I hadn't really minded all the   
company. Though I was looking forward to some peace and quiet. Then, I   
heard a familiar voice in the hallway.  
  
"Excellent work, Callie, my lass! Excellent!"  
  
Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody was standing in the corridor, beaming. His   
electric blue eye swept over my office and everyone in it, lingering   
longest on Snuffles.  
  
No one had told me if Moody knew the truth about Sirius Black, but   
I assumed he did. Moody seemed to know a great deal about what went on   
at Hogwarts, though he was retired, and no longer on the staff.  
  
On either side of the old Auror stood Neville Longbottom and   
Callandra Moffitt.  
  
"What did Callie do, sir?" Daniel asked.  
  
"She did some searching for me, laddie! I took her outside on the   
front steps and asked her to find you and Longbottom. First she led me   
straight to Neville, and then she led me right to you!"   
  
"It's been a long time since I had a chance to work with a Squib   
who could do that particular trick," Moody's gravelly voice was pleased.  
  
Hermione looked up, with interest. "Squibs can locate individual   
people? Even in a place as crowded as Hogwarts" she asked.  
  
"Some Squibs can," Moody said.  
  
"I can't," I murmured, a bit wistfully.  
  
Callandra looked at me with concern. She seemed to be worried that   
she'd hurt my feelings. "I can't manage it with everyone, Mr. Filch.   
Just my Mum and Dad and Danny. And Neville."   
  
As Callandra spoke, she reached for Neville's hand.   
  
"Just the people who mean `home' to you." Moody said. "Finding   
your brother and your young man will do nicely for a start. That's the   
part that seems to come to Squibs naturally. But you can eventually work   
your way up to being able to find anyone, once you've gotten the `feel'   
of their particular magic."  
  
Hermione was fascinated. "But, this isn't in any of my books..."   
she said, intrigued.  
  
"Maybe you'll have to write your own book on Squib magic, then,"   
Ron told her. He was teasing, but Hermione's eyes brightened at the   
thought.  
  
Callandra was still looking at me sadly.  
  
"Have you *ever* been able to find people in a crowd like that,   
Mr. Filch?" she asked me.  
  
"Many years ago," I said, "I could always find my parents, no   
matter where they were. Even down in the village."  
  
Callandra smiled. "You can do it, then."  
  
"No, I've long since lost the knack," I told her. "Mum and Dad   
were the only ones I could ever find. I'd felt their magic around me   
every day of my life, until they brought me here."  
  
I sighed, lost in an old memory. Awakening in an unfamiliar bed   
during my first night in Hogwarts Castle. Reaching out in fear and   
loneliness, with the part of me that could feel magic, for the familiar   
traces that had always been there before.  
  
But Mum and Dad had been too far away. Strange magic, strange   
wizards and witches were everywhere around me, their magic seething,   
swirling, whispering. Even though I was older than the oldest of the   
Hogwarts students, I'd wept like a homesick child.  
  
My expression must have revealed my melancholy thoughts. Still   
cradling Bastet, Ginny put her hand on my shoulder.  
  
"Interesting," Moody was saying. "See, Callie? It's a talent you   
can lose if you don't keep right on using it. You've got to practice   
constantly. Branch out too, and work at finding other people."  
  
Both his bright blue eye and his normal eye were locked onto   
Hermione.  
  
"I believe that Miss Granger has been one of your roommates these   
past few weeks," he said, speculatively. "Why don't we have her go   
elsewhere in the Castle and..."  
  
"Moody," I reminded him. "The children *were* getting ready to go   
and have their dinner."  
  
"Another time, then," Moody said, undaunted.   
  
Harry and Ron had put Beatrice, Juno and Azoth down beside Mrs.   
Norris and Crookshanks. The three kittens nestled between their parents.  
  
The Animagus had moved casually over to Moody, who was idly   
scratching the dog's ears.  
  
"He'll be along in a while..." Moody told Harry.   
  
After the children had all gone, the old Auror closed my office   
door.  
  
Sirius Black shifted to his human form and stretched. "I feel like   
a pincushion," he said.  
  
"I'm sure that Colin will give Harry a copy of that picture," I   
told him.  
  
Sirius sighed, ruefully.  
  
"So..." Moody said, rubbing his hands together. "How are you   
feeling, Argus?"   
  
It had been many weeks since my last lesson with the retired   
Auror. Dumbledore had told Moody about the mission to rescue Callandra.   
Moody had been waiting for me to recover enough to resume our lessons.   
  
Poppy had given me a clean bill of health, and Moody looked eager   
to start again.  
  
"Fine," I said.  
  
He grunted in approval, and turned to Black. "You've still got   
some mending to do, I hear."  
  
The Animagus nodded, sighing again.  
  
"Once you're fit, there's an experiment I'd like to try with the   
pair of you. In the meantime, Filch, call one of your Doors. I want to   
show Black what they are."  
  
I focused. A moment later, red-and-gold appeared on my office   
wall.  
  
The Animagus's eyes widened.  
  
"That's a Door?" Black asked, looking from one of us to the other.  
  
"Yep," Moody said. "There's four of 'em, one made by each of the   
Founders. Got some very interesting properties, they do. Filch here can   
use 'em to get anywhere in the Castle, instantly. Squibs are immune to   
the protective spells meant to keep anyone but their creators from using   
'em."   
  
"What," I asked the old Auror warily, "sort of experiment did you   
have in mind?"  
  
"Well, the Animagus spell has been known to confer a form of   
increased resistance to certain types of protective..."  
  
Immediately, I sent red-and-gold away.  
  
"NO! I am NOT hearing this!" I snapped. "I've told you, Moody! No   
more passengers! Ever!"  
  
"Passengers?" Black asked, intrigued.  
  
"But, we'll never know unless you experiment!" Moody argued with   
me.  
  
"I guess we'll never know then!" I retorted.  
  
"What sort of experiment?" Black asked.  
  
"A very dangerous one that could endanger your life!" I growled.   
  
(Then I remembered that he was a Gryffindor who had probably not   
gotten his quota of foolish risks today. Maybe acting as a kittens'   
playground had not been dangerous enough to suit him.)   
  
"Filch took Severus through a Door. Nearly killed him," Moody   
said. "He took me too. I was flat on my back, sick, for nearly two days   
afterwards. But Ginny and Neville recovered much more quickly. They were   
fine within a few minutes."  
  
"It was longer than that. More like ten minutes!" I said. "The   
longest ten minutes of my life!"  
  
"And you think that my dog form would protect me?" Black asked,   
thoughtfully.  
  
"There's only one way for us to find out..." Moody told him.  
  
"We are NOT having this conversation." I said, loudly enough to   
wake Mrs. Norris and Crookshanks who were still cuddled up with the   
three kittens.  
  
Moody shrugged. "All right. Young Black is not up to it yet,   
anyhow. I was also thinking of asking Minerva if she'd like to give it a   
go."  
  
"NO!" I cried, horrified. "Take such a risk with her? Never!"  
  
Black was grinning. "I guess you'll be waiting for me, then."  
  
"No!" I glared at Moody. "You *promised* you wouldn't ask me to   
take anyone through my Doors again!"  
  
"But he's not asking you. I am." Black said.  
  
Moody smiled, smugly.  
  
"My answer is NO!" I repeated, and turned my back on them.  
  
"Don't worry. I'll work on him..." I heard Moody muttering to   
Black.  
  
I snorted to hide my feelings of trepidation. Gryffindors and   
Slytherins can cause a big enough mess when they are at each other's   
throats. They can create even bigger messes when they work as a team.  
  
"All right, Filch. That particular subject is closed, for now. For   
tonight I want you to try a different experiment."  
  
"What?" I asked, warily, as I turned back to face him.  
  
Moody held out his hands, placatingly. "This experiment won't hurt   
anyone. I only want you to try to do what Callie was doing earlier. Find   
someone in the Castle. Someone who means `home' to you, like Daniel or   
Neville do, to Callandra."  
  
"Weren't you listening?" I asked, irritably. "I haven't been able   
to do that for years."  
  
"Wouldn't you like to regain the ability?" Moody asked. "Try. Take   
me to Albus. His magic must be easy to feel. You've known him for years,   
haven't you?"  
  
"Or Minerva. You ought to be able to find her easily enough,"   
Black said.  
  
They both looked at me expectantly.   
  
Sighing, I closed my eyes, and tried reaching out in a way I   
hadn't attempted for years.  
  
Looking for "Home," and the people who mean home to you, is a   
natural enough thing for any creature. Each of Mrs. Norris's kittens had   
searched the Castle, looking for a companion, and a home. They'd been   
certain of the rightness of their choices, too. As sure as Callandra had   
been, leading Moody to her brother and Neville.  
  
There was a sudden change in the air. A tingle of power, not my   
own, ran down my spine.  
  
I had called out, searching. Something inhuman, ancient and   
incredibly powerful, was stirring. It turned the merest fragment of Its   
attention towards me, and answered.  
  
My heart raced. I felt filled with light. Power flowed through me,   
spilling into Black and Moody.  
  
"What in Merlin's Name is he *doing?*" Moody shouted.  
  
"I don't know, but I don't think he ought to keep doing it for   
much longer!" Black shouted back. "It doesn't look healthy for him!"  
  
"Sorry, Filch," I heard Black say.  
  
Then he Stunned me.  
  
********  
  
"Argus?" It was the Headmaster's voice. "Wake up."  
  
"Hurts..." I moaned. "Moody LIED."  
  
Not much time seemed to have passed. I was still in my office,   
lying on the floor.   
  
Dumbledore helped me sit up.   
  
He, Black and Moody were all watching me with concern. Mrs. Norris   
had left Azoth, Beatrice and Juno curled up against Crookshanks. She was   
beside me, nuzzling me as if I were one of the kittens.  
  
"You felt that?" I asked Dumbledore.  
  
"I did, indeed. All the way upstairs in my office."  
  
"It was an accident, Headmaster." I was trembling all over. "Do   
you think It's angry with me?"  
  
"Is *what* angry with you?" Moody asked.  
  
"The Castle," I whispered.  
  
"No," The Headmaster said, gently. "I very much doubt that the   
Castle is angry with Its Caretaker."  
  
Moody and Black exchanged a look. Moody looked like a child on   
Christmas morning. His reaction to new information reminded me very much   
of Hermione's.  
  
"So, do the pair of you chat with the Castle often?" The old Auror   
asked, with great interest.  
  
I pulled Mrs. Norris onto my lap, stroking her as I slowly grew   
calmer.  
  
"I'd hardly call it `chatting.' It happens, perhaps twice a   
decade, in my case," Dumbledore said, gravely.   
  
"The Castle's attention, focused on any one person for longer than   
a few moments, would probably prove fatal," the Headmaster continued.   
"Though, Argus seems well suited for it, even more so than I am. His   
`conversations' seem to happen more frequently than mine do."  
  
"I don't understand." I said.  
  
Dumbledore's voice was low and soothing. "Alastor told me what he   
asked you to do. You were searching for the magic that you associate   
with home, were you not? Every other witch and wizard here has been   
Sorted into a House, Argus. Including me. Only you are not Gryffindor,   
not Slytherin, not Hufflepuff, and not Ravenclaw. You are the Caretaker,   
and the entire Castle is your House."  
  
I stared at him for a moment, then the truth in his words sunk in.   
My place here is considered lowly. But it is still an important place   
and a unique one, in spite of that.  
  
Moody was looking at me speculatively.  
  
"Well, tonight, I am the one who gets to say that the lesson is   
over," I told him gruffly.   
  
Black grinned at the imperious tone in my voice. And Moody didn't   
argue with me.   
  
"As you wish, Master Caretaker," he said, giving me a slight bow.  
  
I smiled.  
  
  
THE END  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
  
Well, this one's over now. I'll be taking a break from writing for at   
least a week or two. (I still have more ideas, but no new complete   
stories yet; just a lot of fragments and scattered scenes.)  
  
I am going to enjoy relaxing and reading everyone else's stories, catch   
up on some sleep and housework and other chores too.  
  
Three Sickles Short: Thank you!! I never thought about a Potion not   
being able to undo a Charm. Snape seems like he can do anything with a   
cauldron and the right ingredients.  
  
Your comment on Snape's and Filch's reaction, if anyone remarked on   
their friendship, matches my impressions of them exactly!  
  
Helen: Thank you!! I used Filch's personal boggart in one of my other   
stories, "The Squib and the Werewolf." (Filch helps Remus catch a   
boggart.)  
  
I'm don't know if Rowling will ever say much about Filch's past, so I   
came up with a backstory for him. I agree that he would have been a very   
conscientious teenager, doing everything according to schedule.  
  
For the purposes of my stories (unless Rowling ever says differently)   
Filch's parents arranged for him to be apprenticed to Appollyon Pringle,   
the previous caretaker, when he was in his late teens.  
  
Andolyn: Thank you!! Not only for your comments on this story, but for   
also commenting on the two previous ones!! Gryffindor was the best place   
for Callandra, for exactly the reasons that you describe.  
  
I think the hostility of (many but not all) Slytherins will actually be   
easier for Callandra to deal with than the over-concern and smothering   
kindness that she might face from some of the Hufflepuffs.   
  
As for Ravenclaws, Callandra is quite well prepared to deal with *them.*   
Her parents and brother (and Aunts, Uncles, and both sets of   
Grandparents) are all Ravenclaws. She's an intellectual, from a family   
of intellectuals and can hold her own in any discussion of magic, even   
if she can't work the spells.   
  
Callandra's mother and father are both renowned scholars in the study of   
Ancient Runes. Callandra (who is artistic) is quite adept with a magic   
paintbrush, and can paint magical runes with the best of them.  
  
That doesn't mean that she won't meet condescending Ravenclaws. She   
will. But she'll put them in their place very handily.  
  
I know what you mean about that condescending kindness. My father (who   
was blind) had to deal with that quite a lot. I remember going with him   
to a bank, when I was twelve years old. The lady at the bank kept   
addressing all her comments to me instead of to my father.  
  
It was "tell your father this, honey. Tell your father that, honey."   
Until my father said, "Tell the lady that your father is blind. Not   
deaf. And not STUPID!" :-)  
  
Elspeth: Thank you!! Yes, that was why the Hat sang for Callandra. Just   
to make sure that EVERYONE got the point. That Callandra had as much   
right to be there as every other student.  
  
"Hemlock" was actually the front-runner for the black kitten's name. And   
then I found something with a reference to Alchemy, and I couldn't   
resist using "Azoth" instead.  
  
ThePet: Thank you!! Yes, I am worried about Draco too. I don't *want*   
him to choose Voldemort.   
  
Melodie: Thank you!! Poor Draco... I like showing him more sides of him   
than we get to see in the actual books.  
  
Alchemine: Thank you!! I love the idea of the Sorting Hat working for   
Hallmark! Yes, Dumbledore just asked "you can sort Miss Moffitt, can't   
you?" and the Hat said "Of course!"  
  
The Harry Potter websites that "sort" people always put me in Ravenclaw.   
But I love Hufflepuff! I think it's the Hufflepuffs who really DO keep   
the world running.  
  
Besnaped: Thank you!! You can borrow the song if you want. It's fun to   
write Snape as younger.  
  
Lataradk: Thank you!! I am so envious that you already have the DVD!!!  
  
The image of Sirius and Severus as two crabby old wizards, still chasing   
each other around made me laugh! Especially Sirius's motor and Severus's   
quills!  
  
Gramarye: Thank you!!  
  
Jelsemium: Thank you!! "Hard work and pain are the best teachers..."   
always sounded so Hufflepuff to me. Filch probably enjoys the hard work   
more than he lets on. Filch also really enjoys complaining.  
  
Lilith Morgan named her kitten "Juno Norris."  
  
I gave some thought to Lilith and Gehenna's feelings about Harry, though   
they only interacted very briefly in this chapter. Lilith and Gehenna   
adore Professor Snape (and both of them have little-girl crushes on him)   
but they do know how to think for themselves. They don't accept *all*   
his opinions blindly.  
  
Harry fascinates both girls. They would not confess this to anyone, but   
they think he's very cute. And he's a PARSELMOUTH! Not to mention a   
brilliant Seeker (though Lilith and Gehenna loyally support Draco, whom   
they also think is extremely cute.)  
  
Demeter: Thank you!! Lucius Malfoy is slippery and likes to cover every   
contingency. Taking the blame for all the other Death Eaters and   
suffering Voldemort's wrath was his own Calculated Risk. Now, he has   
this hold over a group of his fellow Death Eaters. It could be a   
powerful weapon someday.  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Lucius isn't going to die... he's too   
interesting to kill. I do want to try to stay as close to canon as I can   
and I don't think that Rowling is going to kill him. (At least I hope   
not!) 


End file.
